The Trickster: Ragnarok
by Shadow Chaser
Summary: From tragedies, villains rise. From tragedies, heroes fall. The sons of the House of Odin come full circle; this is Ragnarok. Loki-centric, Avengers-centric, no pairings. Sequel to Frozen in Time.
1. Chapter 1

The Trickster: Ragnarok

by: Shadow Chaser

**Author's Notes:**

This is the big concluding story within the _Trickster Universe _and is set one year after _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_ and follows immediately after the events of _Frozen in Time._ A few things have been altered from the original MCU, namely all characters know that Coulson is alive and certain characters that died in the movie are dead. **The only movie as of December 2014, that is NOT CANON in my universe is **_**Thor: The Dark World**_**.**

**Important Note:**

To fully enjoy this story, please make sure you are familiar with the cliffnotes of the Trickster Universe in the Author's Notes at the end of Chapter 10 of _Frozen in Time_, as well as have read Chapter 16 and onward of _Frozen in Time_, otherwise you will be missing most of the backstory/politicking/plotlines that sets up this one. For those who have plowed through all three stories – have fun with this one!

**Story:**

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><p><em>Chapter 1<em>

Heimdall took great pride in his duties as the Guardian of the Realms; executing them with the powers bestowed upon him thousands of years before by Bor Allfather. It was a duty not taken lightly, even with the knowledge gained from it or from the many years of watch of the realms. He had seen empires rise and fall, the stability and occasional staleness of rulers, the ebb and flow of rebellion, war, and peace. Chaos rose and fell like the constantly fluctuating tide of moons and stars rotating in orbits that were not symmetrical. Though he knew that there were stars beyond the ones of the nine realms that Asgard watched and ruled over, it was his duty to guard against the threats that would threaten the peace and stability of the other realms. He was the vanguard, the forefront of the might of Asgard – a power none took lightly for the thousands of years of peace.

But Heimdall was also practical and knew like the ebb and flow of tides, the peace was not to last. It was why he had been tasked, to watch and raise the alarm of potential chaos coming to the realms. But chaos did not necessarily have to come from outside the realm, it was easily bred within. The past few years were a testament to the chaos of the universe, even though it was a mere blip in the long life he had led thus far, still proved to him that his watch was sorely needed . However, more often than not chaos came from outside the realms, especially the circumstances that led to his appointment as the current Guardian of the Realms. And so he kept his strict vigil, watching Midgard more often than he had in the past hundreds of years than the other realms, shadows in between that he barely glimpsed, and beyond the realms' borders.

Midgard was the usual source of chaos in the past few years, the mortals gaining knowledge by the thousand fold; perhaps it was due to Thor's presence there. He knew of the swirl of rumors, of what the Court thought of Thor's affections for the mortals, a whim of fancy in the Court's opinion – but Heimdall could tell that the Crown Prince held a deep affection that went beyond mere curiosity, for the mortals. He held in great affection and value for his newly found comrades, the Avengers. Heimdall himself had no opinions on the mayflies of the mortals, but he did acknowledge their fighting prowess and cunning ingenuity against the foes that would cause further chaos in their realm that would have spread to others if they had left it unchecked. At the very least, they had his acknowledgment and occasional sympathy. He saw as Guardian what the others of the Court did not see, perhaps refused to acknowledge, sometimes what even Odin Allfather refused to acknowledge to some extent. But that was not his duty to trouble his liege and lord. He was Guardian. He saw beyond one realm and towards others and even further.

But at this moment, Midgard was the object of his watch, ever since he spied the Crown Prince pacing the stonework of Asgard's halls before summoning the fortitude to talk to the second Prince, and then suddenly appearing on Midgard. Prince Loki was clever enough to have concealed his overt involvement in transporting Crown Prince Thor through the shadows of Yggdrasil, something Heimdall still could not see much to his concern. But it would have been obvious who helped Thor if they had seen what he had seen. But there was no harm to the realms, just trickery and concealment afoot and something while it annoyed him to an extent, was not threatening.

The second Prince's transporting of the Jotun assassins however, had been another story. That had been a direct attack and threat on Asgard itself.

Still, the fact that Prince Loki had literally transported his brother into the midst of an intense battle between HYDRA and whatever remained of the mortal Phil Coulson's organization warranted his watch – if only to sate his curiosity. He watched the Crown Prince dispatch his foes before doing his duty and summoning Thor back to Asgard. After all, it had been against the explicit orders for the Crown Prince to _not_ leave the realm and had to wait until the HYDRA soldiers had been dispatched before he activated the Bifrost to bring the wayward Crown Prince back.

He had then let Odin deal with his designated Heir who had been waiting in the Observatory with a stony look on his weathered face. Prince Loki had waited next to the Allfather, every inch of his body language and expression denying that he had transported Thor back to Midgard just minutes earlier, but it seemed Odin's ire had been directed at Thor instead of Loki when he had returned. Heimdall had been partial to many of the royal family's..._disagreements_, even involved in a few himself – though that had been more during Bor Allfather's reign than when Odin had taken the throne. But even he had been involved in the disagreements between Odin and his sons.

This latest one was of similar vein; ultimately regarding the Crown Prince and his association with the Avengers, but had been worded with a careful emphasis on more the fact that Thor had disobeyed the Allfather's orders, again, than of him coming to the rescue of his mortal friends. What was different about this one than the last time Thor had confronted his father in the Observatory was that Thor had begun to show some of the qualities that had only been overt in Prince Loki – a play on words and of careful consideration of said words. Thor had actually disagreed with Odin and had stated that he had not asked Heimdall to send him back and instead had just, _appeared_ of all things, on Midgard before being seen by Heimdall and retrieved after dispatching those that might have potentially harmed Asgard.

Perhaps there had been merit to Thor's latest adventures with the mortals, because Heimdall knew from long experience that the Allfather would have turned to the second Prince and asked if he had walked his brother through the shadows, but Odin did no such thing. He instead, had just stared at Thor for a very long moment before gesturing to the two Princes to return with him to the heart of Asgard with the barest murmurs of the Queen missing them for evening meal.

When Thor had been finally allowed to return to Midgard, there had been the unspoken command to Heimdall to watch the Crown Prince carefully. He knew that Odin disliked Thor's association with the mortals, finding it a flight of fanciful whim instead of actually focusing his efforts on the title of his station. He obeyed his king and lord's command and thus found himself watching Midgard with a careful eye. He knew it was not worry of the Crown Prince's health, Thor certainly could take care of himself and then some – assassins over the many years long dispatched by him or by Prince Loki – but of the fact that Odin _wanted_ Thor to take over the throne. To take his rightful place and put away the childish things of youth, like adventuring with the mortals. Heimdall himself had little to no opinion on the Avengers, but he did occasionally find them fascinating, and more often than not, acquiesced to Thor's request to watch his friends during the times he was unable to join them on their adventures.

Midgard itself was going through changes in the last few years – merely a blink of an eye through Heimdall's long life – but changes nonetheless. Whereas change on some of the other realms crept by in decades and centuries, Midgard's changes were quick, fast, and more often than not degraded from peaceful negotiations to warfare. Some of the warfare was not the flying of primitive projectile weaponry, but of their technology – looking a lot more like the magicks of Asgard and the other eight realms as they kept discovering the artifacts left behind from ages ago.

And so Heimdall watched as Thor arrived back on Midgard, meeting the son of Coul, hidden from the eyes of his enemies in an underground bunker of sorts. Curiously enough, he had never heard mention of the dissolution of SHIELD to the Allfather from Thor, even though he had witnessed it himself. It had not involved Asgard and Heimdall certainly knew that the Allfather only made the treatise as a formality with Director Fury, something to placate the mortals and their over entitled sense of superiority against the rest of the realms. But he thought it would be something the Crown Prince would have mentioned to the Allfather since SHIELD's fall a little over a year ago. But there was no mention, not even a hint and since it did not involve Asgard, Heimdall himself had not mentioned it. There was no danger to the realm with SHIELD's dissolution by its enemies. He knew that they probably had a name, but was not inclined to find out what it was unless it was a threat to Asgard. So far, the nameless enemy of SHIELD did not seem to be a threat, confining its activities to Midgard.

He watched as Thor bustled around the bunker, his eyes turning occasionally to the others as the Crown Prince had more private moments with his Lady Jane. The curious addition of the metal-armed man in recent days, accompanying the warrior Rogers had garnered a bit of his attention. He had watched the man's curious interaction with the warrior Rogers, and had seen how Thor had treated the man, a kindly humbleness that was unlike the occasional time Heimdall had seen Thor treat Loki. But the difference was that there was a respectful acceptance and almost understanding to the metal-armed man at Thor's words and gestures – as if he craved it, but was still trying to overcome whatever demons plagued him.

Though Heimdall was indifferent to the happenings of Midgard, he was still curious enough to know that perhaps there was merit to Thor's adventures with his mortal friends – it opened his eyes to the vast possibilities of ruling the realms and made him more aware of the plights of those he would soon rule over. The only thing that inhibited this was his constant focus on Midgard instead of taking a far greater interest in the other eight realms, even of Asgard herself. Heimdall understood Odin Allfather's concerns, but it was not his place or station to voice them, unless directly ordered to.

And so he continued to watch, the metal arm man slipping out from the watch of the others, confronting another man, bringing him back to the worry and relief of the others, and that was when he first noticed the flicker.

It was too fast for the mortals and their eyes to follow, judging by the lack of reaction from everyone; too fast for even Thor to see – but then again Heimdall saw that he was focused on the son of Coul questioning their newest prisoner. The flicker had come from the man recently captured, bound, sitting in a small room with a hungry, lean look on his face behind the monocle that had appeared during his transportation. A guileless smile was on the man's lips as he taunted, but Heimdall focused on the man's features-

There. There it was again. The flicker that he was sure was of magicks. This man certainly was not who he claimed to be, but that was for Thor and his mortal friends to figure out. But that was not his concern. It was what he had _thought_ he had glimpsed under the flicker of magicks. Tufts of auburn-red hair, slim angular face and lightly speckled cheeks and icy blue eyes that had long been thought dead. His mind rebelled at the possibility – there were mortals who certainly could have similar features, after all, those who disappeared from Lady Hel's gaze sometimes ended up as mortals, or as others in lives different from when they had passed into her realm and care.

But there had been no body.

Lady Hel had even reported in the aftermath that even she did not see him amongst her subjects all the thousands of years ago.

Odin had voiced what they had all thought – _he_ had been lost to the shadows and voids of Yggdrasil. The pronouncement came moments before he had ascended to the throne and became Allfather.

Yet...

Heimdall extended his hand out, using the innate skills he had received ever since taking up the position of Guardian, and mentally summoned one of the ravens of the Allfather. He could feel the tether and snap of command response as he continued to peer down at Midgard. Something had happened, knocking both the red-haired assassin Romanov and the metal-armed man, sending everyone scrambling and leaving the monocled man, whose image wavered with hints of magicks, alone. There. He saw the flicker again, a shimmer that he had long recognized from the thousand years of the second Prince casting his illusions without a care in the world. No mortal, save perhaps one or two that he had deigned to watch on occasion, could ever command such magicks as similar to what had just happened.

The loud caw of Munnin before his heavy weight landed on his vambrace signaled the arrival of the raven. He did not turn his gaze away from Midgard, but saw out of the corner of his eye the raven adjusting its perch, tilting his head inquisitively to stare at him. Munnin was quieter than his brother raven, Huugin, preferring to let his avian expressions convey his emotions and his duties as the Allfather's familiar. Huugin on the other hand, was more prone to chattering, cackling, and cawing as if there was some kind of cosmic joke constantly being told. But Huugin executed his duties as efficiently as his brother raven. Still the two were as much alike when not summoned for duties and the like, Munnin more prone to defend Huugin from attacks by others who disliked their all-seeing eyes, Huugin more prone to playing pranks and trickery as ravens were wont to do.

Munnin shifted his perch and with an air of daintiness shuffled his way up his vambrace, taking care to gently curl his talons enough to keep his grip, but not enough to puncture skin. He cawed softly again and Heimdall pursed his lips. It was imperative that the Allfather be notified of this, otherwise, he would not have needlessly summon his familiar.

"Sleipnir has been potentially spotted," he said quietly, keeping his gaze focused on the small room the not-monocled man had been placed. "Midgard, near the Crown Prince. I will summon Thor back if the Allfather wishes it for further orders." The Bifrost always had the ability to cut through layers of earth and metal if Heimdall deemed it so, but at the same time he knew it was very rude to punch through protective layers. But he was willing to cut through the bunker if it meant summoning Thor back for further instructions and perhaps a retrieval of one who had been thought lost for so long.

The raven trilled softly and Heimdall felt the acute pinch of talons nearly breaking skin as the bird fluttered, trying to keep its balance when it was clearly in shock. Munnin tilted its head and blinked once at him, as if asking him to confirm once more.

"He wears the guise of one of SHIELD's enemies, but I have seen flickers of illusion magicks and underneath that, the features of Sleipnir. I will watch further," he confirmed to the raven who blinked once again and spread his wings, taking off with a quick flap.

The question that lingered for him was, if it truly was Sleipnir, why, after thousands of years, did he deem to show himself now? And why was he only showing hints of flickering magick when Heimdall knew him to be one of the strongest battlemages? Most of all, what had happened to him since that fateful day – the day that marked the ascent of the House of Odin – _second_ son in line to the throne of Bor Allfather.

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><p>Second son, second Prince, second <em>everything<em>. If there was one thing Loki absolutely hated and detested about Asgard and life itself was Odin's words hundreds of years ago - "_Only one of you may rule, but you were both born to be kings!_" Such cheer, such falsity and hope given, such... Loki rolled his eyes and sneered inwardly as he turned the page on the tome he was reading, ignoring the arrival of the Courtiers and the stirrings of Court coming to life on this early morn. He did not know why he had suddenly thought of his position, but reflected that perhaps it was because the Courtiers had only whispered about Thor since yesterday's interesting turn of events. Thor's sudden arrival and departure certainly had something to do with it – not that Loki had anything involved in sending his bro- sending the idiot through the shadows just for him to rescue his precious mortal friends.

He flicked a quick look up at the already gossiping Courtiers that had arrived early and pursed his lips together. That was probably the source of his annoyance as he looked back down at his tome. He shifted a little, continuing to lean against the pillar near the throne and turned to another page. The Courtiers were _still_ gossiping about Thor and his responsibilities, the Crown Prince, his prowess on the battlefield, his lack of presence in the Court, what they suspected he was doing, what they wanted him to do, what they wished-

Loki wanted to _throw_ something at them. Certainly not to stop the rumors, no he was annoyed yet amused by them, but rather because they were interrupting his concentration in trying to read. His fingers twitched as he considered a silencing spell and heard the soft hiss of laughter from the throne itself respond. He glanced over to the burnished metal chair itself to see the curl of a venomous fang-filled smile directed at him as the serpent hissed his laughter again.

"Jor," he murmured quietly and the snake responded with a very human-like shrug of its body before lowering his head and curling further into the chair. The snake blinked once, flicking its tongue out to taste the air before curling into a tighter and contented ball. Jor's silent point was clear, a few more minutes of idle gossip meant less of a hassle and dealing with the early arrival of the Allfather just because some of the Court decided to jabber away like mockingbirds in the early morning.

Plus he was slightly amused by the fact that Jormungandr had decided to use the _Allfather's _throne, of all places, as his personal warm nesting spot, more than likely feeling the innate magicks permeating it to make himself comfortable. Since he had his core ripped out of him a little over two years ago and bound to his serpentine form, he had found spots where magick permeated through inanimate objects to be a source of comfort. Loki knew this as well as Jormungandr, having learned it from the serpent's older brother Fenrir when he had talked about his previous assassination contracts. Those who had magicks and their core ripped out – if they survived – usually sought out others with magick or areas of great magick concentration and settled there, trying to fill a seemingly bottomless void that could not be filled.

It was pathetic, Jormungandr clearly deserved having his magick flayed from his source, and Loki did not know why he had kept the serpent near him since Director Fury all but dropped into his hands two years previous. He supposed it was some lingering sentimentality, some foolish whim that he did not discard Jormungandr. At least it provided some amusement, and a healthy distraction from whenever Thor was feeling sentimental or inclined towards his attempts at becoming "brothers" once more. The only saving grace was that Thor still heeded the warnings of receiving a knife in his ribs if he so much as tried to embrace him.

Loki closed the tome with a quiet thump, startling the two Courtiers that had been obliviously chattering near him and they hastily bowed, fear flashing in their eyes before moving away, their stilted conversation muted into whispers. He watched them go, saw the minute tremble of fear as both turned to look back, scurrying further away. Had the fear been for the fact that he was a Frost Giant? Monster still told in stories and lore, the peace treaty with Jotunheim made three years previous not withstanding. Or did they think his magicks allowed him to bewitch their minds and use their words against them in some nefarious purpose?

Either or, he was glad for the silence. He was, however, a little more than irked that there had only been fear, but no respect in their eyes. Three years; three years since and Thor was still the whispered one, the Crown Prince, the darling of the Court – even with his absence for the most part. His attempt at conquering Midgard had not been considered heroic nor his attempt to blast Jotunheim into oblivion with the Bifrost. For a war-like race, the Asgardians and Aesir were certainly hypocritical of the bloodshed before them.

Loki let out a small quieting breath, calming himself from his sudden burst of anger and annoyance. Three years was a drop compared to the hundreds and thousands of years he knew he had left of his life. But he also knew that time was of the essence, and that the rumblings of Odin's succession was growing louder. The Allfather did not look as weary as he did in the days before Thor's exile four years past, but Loki could sense that something was amiss. Perhaps it was the beginnings of the Odinsleep, but somehow, he knew that it was not the case. Thanos' imprisonment was all but ensured, treatises drafted with Nidelheim and Jotunheim ensured trade and prosperity as well as the affirmation of non-hostilities from Jotunheim. The coterie were all but dead at his hand and of the two that remained, one bound to his serpentine form, the other, ruling the realm of the unjudged dead under the careful watch of Heimdall.

So then what was this unsettling feeling?

As if the Norns decided to laugh at him and answer his unspoken question, Loki _felt_ and heard it before he saw it – Jormungandr suddenly lifting his head and hissing a warning, coiled and tense.

_Escapeescapeescapeescapeneedtobefreenofreedom_

The ripple of aberration that should not have been there, a voluminous mass of dark, writhing _wrong_ appeared in the middle of the Court. The golden burnished splendor of Odin's throne room was slivered with the loud _silence_ of nightmares. Even before he saw it, Loki dropped the tome to the ground with the heavy thunk and automatically drew out his glaive from the spaces in between he carried with him. As the rip to the void of Yggdrasil grew larger, he took a step forward, magicks tingling at his fingers, his other hand ready to fire the world-shattering ice power of the Casket of Ancient Winters embedded in the glaive's crown.

_Nofreedomcannotbefreemustbefreeneedtoescapeescape_

Just as suddenly a flash of auburn-red hair stumbled through the open ripple into the shadows of the void, dressed in distinct Midgardian clothing that seemed like it belonged to a military. His body trembled with exhaustion as he turned around and with shaking hands, sealed the portal with a thin blue line before the whispers and cacophonous _silence_ abruptly stopped.

Task done, the man slumped to the ground, clearly exhausted, as he hung his head and half-closed his eyes, seemingly gathering himself. Loki eyed the newcomer warily, magicks still tingling at his finger tips as he extended his senses. The magick that swirled around the man seemed artificial, but not in the sense that he had gotten from the man of iron, Tony Stark, but rather, it was _borrowed_. He could feel the fraying threads, the sinews that seemed abruptly cut and haphazardly welded together as if the man once had magick, but somehow had been abruptly severed. He could not feel further, running into an odd resistance and stiffened as the red-haired man opened his eyes and slowly looked up.

His features were aristocratic and angular and Loki could sense the lingering spellwork of an illusion that had once coated him, but had long dissipated. The magicks of a very powerful explosive spellwork lingered around his skin instead of just his fingertips and out of the corner of his eye, he saw several of the guards shift closer weapons drawn, bringing the man's gaze on them.

"Einherjar..." he breathed out quietly, looking around him, his icy blue eyes widening as if he was seeing everything for the first time.

"You obviously are not mortal, to have survived Asgard itself," Loki spoke up quietly, lowering his glaive, but kept it close and almost idle next to him as the man's eyes focused on him. He decided not to mention the man crossing the shadows of the void; the knowledge known only to a very select few.

"This...place..." the man breathed out quietly, looking away from him for a brief moment, staring at Odin's throne to which Jormungandr hissed rather angrily from where he nestled and puffed up, coiling tighter. "This..." the man turned back to look at him and Loki saw the clear relief in them, even though he had weapons pointed at him, "...I am finally...home..."

The man smiled almost deliriously as he looked around again, his hands pressing on the floor as if he could not believe the runes and etchings in them. Loki watched him carefully as some of the Courtiers who had not fled in the initial opening of the portal, slowly stepped forward, murmuring to each other at the newest unexpected visitor. There was something that he could not pinpoint about him, but nonetheless, he could feel the waning of magicks around the man as he looked around before finally turning on his knees to face him and bowed low, his head touching the stonework.

"I beg of you, milord, please tell me if Odin Borson rules as Allfather?"

"He does..." Loki answered and saw the bed of red-hair nod, shoulders slumping as if a weight had been taken off of him.

"Then all is right," he barely caught the muttered whisper before the man continued in a louder voice, "I wish to seek an audience with him for it has been a return long coming. Please tell him that his Sentinel-"

"-Sleipnir..." Odin's voice was but a whisper, yet Loki thought he heard it as loud and as clear as if he had shouted the name across the cavernous throne room. All heads turned to see the Allfather standing by the secondary entrance, Gungnir held tightly in his hands. "You live..."

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><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

And so it begins...


	2. Chapter 2

The Trickster: Ragnarok

by: Shadow Chaser

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own any characters from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. All characters belong to Marvel Entertainment, Marvel Comics, and Disney. I am not writing this story for profit, only for my own (twisted) amusement. I will try to return the characters unharmed, but some they might have a few scuff marks.

**Story:**

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><p><em>Chapter 2<em>

"...You died..." it took a moment for Loki to realize that those words had come from Odin's mouth, and another second for him to utterly comprehend it and realize that the Allfather had actually spoken them. With a quiet start, he realized he had never heard Odin sound so _shaken_. There had always been a quiet confidence, of power behind his words, even mere whispers or commands spoken. In battle, there had been the flow of bolstering magicks, just an undercurrent, but nonetheless there to aid others. And the words spoken just now sounded utterly foreign to his ears.

"No, my liege," Sleipnir had turned and immediately bowed low to the ground once more, his head touching his hands held in front of him as he knelt on both knees. Utter supplication of authority to the Allfather, unlike how most greeted the Allfather with a single knee bent, arm across and head bowed until acknowledged by the Allfather. "As you had said, I live. I beseech an audience with you to tell you of the tale," the auburn-haired man said quietly and Loki frowned a little, the words sounding oddly familiar until he realized it was something _he_ himself would have said to request a private audience with the Allfather.

Unlike the stupid oaf Thor who usually barged in and tried to request a private audience by saying something that would have usually alerted the Court of something wrong, Loki normally asked for a private audience in the rare times he wished for one, by some vague polite request that was as bland as indicating the daily astronomical weather patterns. It was...disconcerting to hear such smooth words coming from Sleipnir's mouth as if they were his own. He cast a faint spell, his senses stretching out to see if there was anything amiss and felt the normal ancient skeins and threads of wards surrounding Asgard and the throne room as well as the remnant of the void, and the faintness of a illusion spell as well as an explosive one already fading from Sleipnir's form.

His spellcasting must have been detected as he saw Sleipnir stiffen a little in response to his stretching awareness, but otherwise did not move from his position as he waited for the Allfather's response. Curious indeed...what was Sleipnir? Sensitive enough to feel him casting a faint spell? A part of his Sentinel abilities? What was a Sentinel? A title that Loki had never heard of in all of his life in Asgard nor in his research of the libraries. Granted there were books and tomes he had never read in Asgard's vast library, but he did have a good working knowledge of the realm's history as well as the other eight realms – which was extremely useful while he had been with his coterie.

"Granted," the Allfather said quietly before looking at the guards that had surrounded Sleipnir. They snapped to attention and lowered their weapons before unceremoniously cleared out the members of the Court, some of whom had returned finding that no battle had been fought nor any blood shed. It only took a few minutes, but after the last of the guards had cleared out the Court, silence filled the throne room. Even most of the Einhenjar had left, leaving only the barest of guards and especially those that Loki recognized would never ever breathe a word of what happened in Odin's private audiences. The faces Loki long recognized from the day that he had pleaded for mercy for his own coterie all those hundreds of years ago – and true to their word, they had not even spoken a single word about _that_ particular audience.

"You may proceed, Sleipnir," the Allfather's voice had returned to its quiet countenance, "my son, Loki, has provided good council to me in the past."

A flash of annoyance passed through Loki as he realized that Sleipnir had been hesitating to speak and had stiffened at mention of not of the fact that he had provided council to Odin – something that had also surprised himself – but rather that the auburn-haired man had reacted to his name. Loki caught the minute widening of eyes from the other followed by the jerk of his head as he briefly looked up at Odin before looking back down. Sleipnir knew his place; as both an intruder and the fact that the Allfather had granted his request when normally anyone else would have instantly been questioned or placed in a cell to be questioned later.

So Odin truly believed that this Sleipnir was whom he claimed. Or not, as Loki saw Odin's grip on Gungnir tighten ever so slightly, tense and ready to strike. He kept his own weapon held loosely in his hands, his magicks relaxed, but ready to strike in case it was a ruse of sorts. It would not be the first time an assassin had made his or her way into the throne room on the pretense of having a private audience with the Allfather. Granted, no other assassin had walked the shadows of the void to do so, but there was always a first for everything. Jormungandr hissed softly from where he was still puffed up and coiled tightly on the throne itself, breaking the oppressive silence of the throne room.

"His name...y-you..." Sleipnir's voice cracked a little, making his already soft rasp even raspier, as he blinked rapidly before a sad smile flitted across his face, "O-Odin..." He seemed to compose himself as he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the faint exhale audible in the silence. There was a momentary pause before the auburn-red haired man's lips quirked up in a small smile. "You have aged...Odin, er, Allfather. I...has it been so long?"

"Over four thousand years since," Odin had not moved from where he stood, "we thought you dead."

Sleipnir's bowed form twitched at that statement, "I...I am sorry, Allfather. If...if there had been any way for me to return, for me to let you know that I was alive..."

Something about what the other man was saying stirred something in Loki until he realized it was very reminiscent of his own conversation with Thor four years previous on the mountains called the Alps on Midgard. Filled with almost the same concern, the same warmth and affection-

_"We thought you dead," the grip on his shoulder was full of warmth and affection and Loki sneered, roughly shrugging it off. He needed no one's pity, and certain not this idiot._

_ "Did you mourn?" he growled out, lips curling over his teeth at the hurt and shock that sprang up in Thor's eyes. Good, he did not need his feigned platitudes. He certainly threw him hard enough upon landing from the quinjet._

_ "We all did-_"

"We mourned..." it was not the Allfather who had spoken the next words, interrupting Loki out of his reverie, but rather the Allmother and he turned to see her standing by the entrance of the throne room, Huugin perched on her shoulder. She looked out of breath and Loki surmised that she must have hastily dismissed her own Court to run here. There was another soft caw behind her and she turned slightly, revealing that Eir had also arrived, Muugin on her shoulder. The chief healer, however, looked more composed, yet Loki could see the equal shock in her eyes.

"Frigga-er, Allmother...Eir..." Sleipnir's voice was faint with wonder and shock.

But before he could say anything else, Loki watched as Frigga hurried forward, Huugin squawking his protest as he tried to keep a precarious grip on the Allmother's shoulder. He felt a sudden pull of worry, but ruthlessly quashed it as the Allmother boldly picked Sleipnir up from the floor, and gently brushed the dust off of the shoulders of his Midgardian military uniform. The Allfather had not reacted, had not even moved a single inch and if he was not worried for the Queen, then Loki had no reason to do so – except the remnant worry of the woman who had raised him from childhood. Instead, he tightened his grip on his glaive, ignoring the feeling of Jormungandr slithering his way up the base, curling around his hand before wrapping himself around his arm, a quiet hiss announcing his presence.

He watched as the Allmother gripped Sleipnir's arms tightly, staring deep into his face, her eyes tracing him with an affection that Loki had only witnessed between her and Odin. It was disconcerting to say the least and flicked a look to Odin to see him holding himself still, but caught the undercurrent of _something_ there that he had never seen before. Was it...jealousy? Concern? A dismissive sort of concern that he mistook for jealousy?

"You've aged beautifully, Lady Frigga," Sleipnir murmured quietly and Loki saw Frigga's cheeks color ever so slightly before the corner of her lips turned upward as she finished her inspection and stepped back. She nodded as she released Sleipnir and looked at Odin.

"There was no body," she said quietly. "Even Hel," she faltered a little, "even Hel said she could not see him in the days following..."

Loki blinked once. Hel? As in Lady Hel of Helheim, the Queen of the unjudged dead? The same Hel that had freed Fenrir and Jormungandr from their prisons two years ago and was only punished with what had been a somewhat light sentence? That same Hel of his coterie? He opened his mouth to demand more information before closing it abruptly when his mother turned and smiled a bit sadly at him. He could read the open apology in her eyes, the understanding that he had questions, and he gritted his teeth together, ignoring her compassion and understanding that she was trying to convey to him.

"Let me see him, Frigga," Eir interrupted the moment and Frigga allowed the chief healer to replace her, taking a few steps back, but nonetheless kept a faint smile on her face.

"You have not aged much, boy," Eir had taken Sleipnir's chin in one hand and was moving his head back and forth in a gentle manner as she examined him. Her other hand was held up and Loki saw the brief flash of magicks flare in it at the same time Sleipnir visibly flinched from her grip, stumbling back a step-

Loki could feel the hum of an encircling spell ready at his fingertips-

And just as suddenly Sleipnir held his hands up, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I- I...I didn't, I did not mean to- I...I-I c-can't...please-" He swallowed and looked around him as he took a tentative step back, icy blue eyes wild with unadulterated fear before he shook his head at Eir whose hand was still raised, the uncast spell lingering on her palms. Munnin on her shoulder perch had leaned forward as if he was about to try to launch an attack on Sleipnir when he had moved. Sleipnir shook his head again, "I am so sorry Eir...p-please...it...it has been so..._long_ since I felt..." He swallowed audibly, "He kept me deprived of magicks for so many thousands of years that...you...you startled me...that was all..."

"Who," Odin stepped forward, his lips thin and it was only later that Loki realized he had never seen such a cold furious anger in the Allfather's eyes, not even during the whole debacle with Thanos on the Rainbow Bridge, nor on the icy wastelands of Jotunheim when he had disobeyed the Allfather's orders. "Who did this?" the Allfather demanded with a quiet furious hiss.

Sleipnir's expression crumpled as he shook his head, "Baldr, Odin...Baldr...he's...he's alive..."

* * *

><p>"Should we not return, Loki? The feast is about to start," Jormungandr's voice spoke up behind him over the rhythmic musical clip-clop of the horses' feet on the Rainbow Bridge.<p>

Loki ignored Jormungandr's question as he saw the golden splendor of the Observatory rise up in greeting as they got nearer. He saw the small figure in resplendent gold-silver armor waiting for them at the mouth of the Observatory to the Bifrost as if expecting them. But then again, Heimdall saw everything, and they had been riding at the slowest walking pace the horses were able to bear before rebelling.

"Loki-"

"The feast is of no concern. The guest of honor is there and we won't be missed," he cut Jormungandr off with a look to which the former healer only huffed in annoyance, seemingly burrowing into himself before remembering that he was not in his serpentine form and instead, was once more human. The only reason why he was back in his human form instead of the punished serpentine form the Allfather had forced him into two years ago was because the horses did not like snakes. The Allfather had not said anything the first time Loki had released Jormungandr from his serpentine form, but the rest of the Court and even Thor for the rare times he had been on Asgard in the past two years, had been shocked. Loki considered leaving Jormungandr in his human form, but also knew that it would be inviting the Allfather to reproach him or worst, hand down another punishment even though he had technically not been involved in his coterie's revival. Loki did not want to chance it – knowing that the Allfather knew he had not escaped punishment for what had happened two years ago by virtue of having taken Jormungandr's core into his own to heal himself.

"Then what are we doing here?" Jormungandr asked, but Loki ignored him again as he got off of his horse and let it wander over to nibble a greeting to Jormungandr's horse.

"Prince Loki," Heimdall greeted neutrally, his golden eyes boring straight into him to which Loki only returned with a slight thin-lipped smile. The golden eyes slid off of him as he looked beyond him, "Jormungandr."

"Guardian," Jormungandr replied in careful neutral greeting.

"No need to be so formal on my account," Loki glanced back between the two and saw Jormungandr shift uncomfortably before nodding and a small smile appeared on the young man's lips, his icy blue eyes glittering with a contentment that Loki rarely saw.

"You saw?" Jormungandr glanced at him and Loki shrugged and did not answer as he moved past Heimdall, entering the Observatory. He was aware that the times Jormungandr was not by his side, he was at the Observatory, the greatest repository for magick energies outside of the heavily secured defenses of Asgard itself. As a magickal creature who had his very core flayed from him, Jormungandr sought comfort in the presence of anything imbued with magick – more often than not it was on Loki's work spaces or on himself from the spells tingling around him as he did his work. Sometimes it was on furniture that retained unusual magicks, like Odin's throne, but the Observatory had one of the highest concentrations – built by the Tesseract and weaved by Asgard's contingent of battlemages. Even Loki had been drawn towards the skeins and weaves of such powerful magick, but since he had his core, he did not quite understand what Jormungandr felt, but could somewhat relate to it after his fall from the Bifrost four years ago.

It was only natural that Jormungandr would find some comfort in spending time in the Observatory, letting the ripples and skeins of magick flow around him, basking and trying to absorb it through osmosis – to fill the emptiness inside that was related to the loss of his core. Apparently Loki had long surmised that Jormungandr had perhaps befriended or had even talked to Heimdall in the times he was at the Observatory. But the fact that Jormungandr had considered Loki's own feelings regarding Heimdall and tried to keep a polite distance would have normally touched him if it did not readily annoy him. He did _not_ need consideration like that. It only served as an infantile weakness and idiotic attempts to soothe imagined slights.

He heard Jormungandr hum a tuneless song as he walked deeper into the Observatory, stopping for a moment to stare at the activation point before glancing towards where the transportation site was. He wondered if it was pointed at Midgard, ready to bring Thor back from Midgard on the Allfather's orders once more. What Sleipnir had said seemed to indicate it as such, but surprisingly the Allfather had not given the order.

_Loki knew he was missing something significant and the flash of annoyance that passed through him was not relieved when he saw Odin shake his head vehemently in denial. His annoyance though, sparked into slight alarm at the furious anger he heard in the Allfather's next words._

_ "You lie. I saw him die! I-"_

_ "Allfather, Odin, I do not lie. I..." Sleipnir swallowed again as he looked at him, Frigga, and Eir, "I- He...he made me his familiar. That...that is why I did not age as rapidly or as normally as you have." The red-haired man turned to Eir, "Please, Eir, you can check, you can scan. I'll...I will let you do so...just-"_

_ Odin made a swift cutting motion with his hand and Eir nodded jerkily before moving forward again, her hand crackling a little with the magicks of her spell before she placed her other one gently on Sleipnir's shoulder. The man was trembling in fear and seemed to stop himself from shying away as she placed her hand right above his chest, almost touching, but not quite._

_ "Breathe, boy, breathe. It will not hurt..." Eir's voice was soothing like whenever she dealt with her patients in the healing ward. Sleipnir nodded once before closing his eyes, his fists clenching and releasing as he forced himself to breathe in and out in a steady rhythm as the spell flared in Eir's hands for a few seconds before she stepped back and the other man sagged visibly, and opened his eyes, looking for a second so horribly broken._

_ Loki gritted his teeth at the look, wanting to look away, unable to stand the expression, but a part of him was utterly disgusted by it. It was so... He forced himself to relax a little as he felt Jormungandr's body tighten around his upper arm in response before the snake also relaxed and flicked its tongue out, tasting the air._

_ "His core is gone, Allfather," Eir looked at Sleipnir with a compassionate gaze and Loki saw the older man drop his head a little in shame. "Shredded. Whence there used to be magick, there is none now. I felt the threads of age, of remnants of magick and the presence of another is forced unnaturally in there, but it has dissipated. There is definite spellwork cast about him, but those too have begun to fade. I can feel the tugs of servitude, but it seems almost...alive in an unusual sense... He is who he claims to be, Allfather."_

_ "Baldr is _not_ alive," Odin whispered angrily, his voice seemingly booming off the pillars and walls of the throne room._

_ "Odin-"_

_ "I _held_ him as he died in my arms, Sleipnir," Odin growled out, "He died. You saw it as well as I did when _he_- when he slewed him. When-"_

_ "When we took our revenge. We took it and-"_

_ "-you _fell_. You-"_

_ "-And you became Allfather," Sleipnir finished quietly, looking up at Odin who had walked closer, Gungnir still gripped tightly in his hand, but there was something different in the Allfather's expression, "at least something good came of it..."_

_ "Baldr's dead..."_

_ "Baldr's alive," Sleipnir started again, taking a step forward into Gungir's physical range, "on Midgard all these years. I did not, and still do not know how he survived after...after what had happened, but I would never lie, Odin. He...he was the one who bestowed the status of a familiar to me in order to save my life after...well, after the darkness, the incomprehensible void-" There was something distant in Sleipnir's icy blue eyes that Loki recognized and silently revolted against, a shuddering twitch that seemed to shake the other man like a leaf on the wind before he came back to himself. The niggling sense that he should _know_ what was happening was gnawing at him and it annoyed him to no end. But he could not, for the life of the Norns, understand what it was or why. Something about what Sleipnir was saying was utterly familiar, yet so bizarrely not that Loki could not quite wrap his head around._

_ And that in of itself made him suspicious of Sleipnir._

_ "Munnin," the Allfather suddenly snapped and the raven perched on Eir's shoulder flapped his wings hastily, "send word to Heimdall that he is to search for Baldr-"_

_ "He lives as Vasily Karpov," Sleipnir supplied before the raven took off, headed towards the Observatory. The man smiled faintly, "It pleases me to hear that Heimdall took up his post after everything. And Munnin..." He turned to look at the raven perched on Frigga's shoulder, staring at him with beady black eyes. Surprisingly, Huugin had been utterly silent since arriving, not even a cackling caw as he was wont to do in any situation. Loki did not know the history of Odin's familiars, but now he wondered based on what Sleipnir said, were they too once human? Perhaps one of the members of the other realms forced into an animal form like Jormungandr and turned into familiars? It would not be a stretch to think so._

_ "Huugin?" Sleipnir guessed and the raven cawed softly as if affirming his guess._

_ "They are my familiars," Odin whispered and Sleipnir's expression turned a little sour, but he nodded, "it was the only way to save them after..."_

_ "You do not need to justify your actions, Allfather," Sleipnir said and Loki's eyes widened at the same time he heard the rustle of cloth from the guards that had remained. Even Frigga and Eir both looked shocked at the presumption, the sheer incomprehensible fact of what Sleipnir implied. At the same time, it seemed that the man realized what he was saying before he coughed and opened his mouth to apologize-_

_ "Your lapse is forgiven in absence of your presence for the last few thousand of years," Odin replied just as mildly, "but you would do well to remember who stands upon the throne."_

_ "I apologize Allfather," Sleipnir bowed his head a little, "forgive me. I...it has been long since-"_

_ "Why return now? If this Vasily Karpov, this Baldr is your master, why are you here," Loki did not know what compelled him to speak, but he met Sleipnir's sharp look with a tilted look of his own. The others, Odin included seemed to remember that he was still there, ever in the shadows, as they looked at him. But he kept his gaze on Sleipnir, watching as something seem to flit across the man's icy blue eyes – oddly hauntingly familiar as if he had seen those eyes before – before the auburn-haired man bowed to him._

_ "My Prince," Sleipnir greeted respectfully before lifting his head back up, "I was not sent by Baldr. I escaped the moment he gave me the power to do so. Even now, I can feel the tugs in which he wishes to summon me back, but I am glad that he only gave me enough power to walk the shadows of Yggdrasil once. Save for demanding Heimdall send me back by Bifrost, it is a saving grace that I cannot do anything else."_

_ "Convenient," Loki was not convinced and Sleipnir smiled a little._

_ "Your son takes after you, Allfather," the other man said and Loki bristled. He was _nothing_ like the Allfather. Odin was a man who never spoke what he thought, who put Thor, the precious Crown Prince, ahead of everything else- Had _lied_ to him about his parentage; that he was a Frost Giant, monster, Jotun, the stuff of nightmares-_

_ "He is as unique as his own," the Allfather replied mildly and Loki shot a look at him, which was ignored before glaring at Sleipnir who seemed a little surprise at his look._

_ "I...uh, I seemed to have said something-"_

_ "Such slights are only as imagined as your addled mind on the planet of fools you have claimed to have lived on for thousands of years," he replied, acid in his tone, and saw Sleipnir's expression close before he nodded sharply and bowed his head again._

_ "That is true, my Prince," the other man said in a neutral voice, and Loki had the feeling that whatever hurt he had inflicted, Sleipnir had buried his own feelings deep instead of obstinately showing it for all to see. Curious..._

_ "My master-er, Baldr, had sent me to disrupt the Avengers in his latest scheme. We learned of Thor's existence a few years ago when the Chitauri attacked New York, but we only knew as much as the intelligence agency SHIELD had kept on file for the Crown Prince. We knew of you, my Prince, but I did not believe that you were whom you claimed to be until now. Baldr schemed as the mortal Vasily Karpov to take over HYDRA, one of the enemies of SHIELD after its dissolution a year ago."_

_ So it was true, what he had suspected when Thor started to spend more time on Midgard. He had no doubts that it was because of his precious Lady Jane, but more because to protect her when SHIELD could no longer do so as well as to fight with the mortal Avengers. Though he did not readily concern himself with the affairs of Midgard, he had been rather curious to see how the realm fared after his naive attempt to conquer it. Naive for him because in hindsight, it was a pathetic waste of his time and resources._

_ "Then why escape now?" he look pointedly at Sleipnir_

_ "Because Baldr expected to capture the Crown Prince and have me walk the two of them through the shadows to Asgard," Sleipnir replied, his voice and gaze steady and unblinking on him. He turned his head slightly to Odin, "Allfather, it was Baldr who conceived of the plan years ago, and Baldr who risked everything to gain your throne. Your elder brother was not mad to slay him, for it is my belief that he might had had an inkling of what was to come. Odin, Baldr wants the throne, and he will do everything in his power to get it."_

A loud crash behind Loki made him tear his gaze and thoughts from the vast starlight that always lead to nothing- to see Jormungandr tripping over his feet and falling to the ground before picking himself up. Already, two years since, and the young mage had adapted to his serpentine form better than his human one. He ignored the healer's antics and clasped his hands behind his back, "Tell me, Guardian, how is it that you could not have seen Sleipnir or even this Baldr until now?"

"I have yet to spy Baldr, my Prince," Heimdall replied a little testily, his golden eyes boring into him. "But if it is truly him, then either he has learnt magicks that hide him from my gaze," the Guardian stared at him shrewdly as if to associate him with the same magicks that had allowed Loki to cloak the Jotuns four years ago during Thor's coronation, "or it was very likely he cast an illusion upon himself that has not drawn my gaze for the duration of my watch."

"It is a wonder that you claim to protect the realms when you do not espy all the individuals on the realms," Loki shot back and saw Heimdall bristle at the insult, but did not respond when he knew that the Guardian wanted to.

"I watch those that would bring harm and danger to Asgard and the other realms, _my Prince_," he finally said after a few minutes and Loki snorted quietly, "or those of great import that is of concern to the House of Odin."

"Ah, yes...mortals," he walked aimlessly back and forth and gave Heimdall a thin-lipped smile that did not reach his eyes. Behind Heimdall, Jormungandr was absently holding his hands up to pluck at the skeins and weaves, his eyes closed in a blissful contentment. "Brief candled lives that flicker only for a heartbeat. They mean no harm in the realms. So why should you care for their individual greatness and lives that they have lived. Surely those of Muspelheim or Vanir have more pressing concerns-"

"You have great care for the mortals, my Prince," though one could not even hear the sarcasm in Heimdall's words, Loki stopped his ambling pace as he glared at the Guardian. _He_ certainly heard the thinly veiled sarcasm and only chuckled bitterly before getting to his point.

"Sleipnir, Heimdall," he stated and saw the Guardian tilt his head to the side in acknowledgment, the attempt at pleasantries all but over. Loki had not forgiven Heimdall for betraying his trust while he was regent nor had Heimdall forgiven him for freezing him with the Casket of Ancient Winters. There were many other small slights before that, but it was something that made the two almost avoid each other whenever they were near. Thus Loki rarely traveled via Bifrost since his return to Asgard three years ago, preferring to use the paths through the shadows of the void.

"A good friend and competent battlemage," Heimdall replied, "certainly for naught as his mentor and teacher was the Crown Prince himself-"

"What can the Allfather know-"

"-Not Odin, but his older brother, your namesake," Heimdall replied, moving to stand by his watchful position, facing the stars. Loki paused and noticed that Jormungandr did the same, open shock on the young healer's face. He looked at Heimdall whose golden eyes were focused on the starlight, a wistful, yet somewhat melancholic expression on his face. "You were named after Odin's older brother Loki, when you were brought from the wastelands of Jotunheim."

"You knew..." Loki had long wondered if Heimdall had known he had been a Jotun babe, stolen from the temple he had been left to die after – if King Helblindi's tale was true – he had shown inklings of magick that was in a society who shunned and killed any who showed it.

Heimdall ignored his statement and continued, "Crown Prince Loki was Sleipnir's teacher, mentor, and confidant. Sleipnir was to become his Sentinel, his right hand, until the Crown Prince slew the youngest of the House of Bor, Baldr, his and Odin's youngest brother. Odin retaliated and slew Loki with the help of Sleipnir and the others before taking up the position of Allfather from Bor after his passing in the ensuing battle."

Again, just like when he had been in the throne room, Loki had the niggling sense that he was missing something, that he should know this because it had been told to him before. But he could not quite pinpoint when and where and pushed the feeling aside. Instead, he focused on Heimdall's words and realized something. "You were there..."

"I was," Heimdall inclined his head once, "and helped deliver the cleaving blow that ended the Crown Prince's life. We had thought Sleipnir lost in the aftermath, the Crown Prince taking him with him as he died, but-"

"Here he is..."

"Here he is..." Heimdall agreed, "and-" He suddenly frowned and leaned forward a little, eyes narrowing for a long second before he drew back sharply.

Loki only raised an eyebrow at the Guardian's actions before he saw a look of puzzlement flit across his face. "Perhaps there was merit to Sleipnir's tale...I thought I saw Baldr..." the Guardian leaned forward again, his gaze intent and focused as he peered through starlight and just when the silence was a little too oppressive Heimdall's eyes widened minutely.

"Crown Prince Thor has disappeared."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

Readers of my previous stories know that I occasionally mentally cast actors in roles to give a visual frame of reference. Readers of _Coterie_ know that I've cast Colin Morgan as Jormungandr. Sleipnir is no different – I've mentally cast Damian Lewis in the role. I do have a criteria for casting actors in roles – they must not have been associated with a very well-known Marvel or DC role, nor any future roles (so that rules out Benedict Cumberbatch, James McAvoy, Michael Fassbender, and Christian Bale...sigh).

**Cliffnotes on Frozen in Time (since there are readers out there not inclined to go through a very long story – I understand...):**

- Thor's political standing on Asgard is kind of in jeopardy – he is beloved by the people, but the Court thinks he spends too much time attending to Midgard instead of the welfare of all nine realms. Thor personally does not see the problem.

- After Alexander Pierce's demise, HYDRA is run by Baron von Strucker. However, while Strucker does exists, but is being mind-controlled by Vasily Karpov from the shadows with Loki's sceptre that he left behind two years ago (as evidenced in CA:TWS movie stinger). It's revealed that Karpov orchestrated a lot of the behind-the-scenes regarding the Winter Soldier Project as well as Natasha Romanov's Red Room, and also the creation of both Bucky's vibranium-kevlar arm as well as Steve's vibranium shield – which he claims has unique magical properties.

- Karpov had Tony and Sam captured and sent Sleipnir disguised as Baron von Strucker to obstinately lure Bucky to be re-captured – his "weapon" so to speak. The Avengers, being who they were, decided the confront it head-on and rescue their friends, but realized it was a trap to ultimately capture Thor and Mjolnir. The Avengers don't realize this until the very end when Thor attacks them before disappearing with Karpov and the Chitauri sceptre.

**Note: **This is just kind of a bare minimum summation – there are some details I've left out, but I don't think they will be missed since I will be touching on some of those points throughout this story - but it does lend a different perspective, especially regarding Steve towards Bucky and how he muses it relates to Thor and Loki's relationship. Also, please do note that once we get more into the Avengers side of things, _Frozen in Time_ and the events that happened in there will be referenced, but also summarized in a more narrative format. I do recommend at least reading the epilogue to _Frozen in Time_ so you know how much time has passed since Thor's disappearance and Loki's eventual appearance on Earth.


	3. Chapter 3

The Trickster: Ragnarok

by: Shadow Chaser

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own any characters from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. All characters belong to Marvel Entertainment, Marvel Comics, and Disney. I am not writing this story for profit, only for my own (twisted) amusement. I will try to return the characters unharmed, but some they might have a few scuff marks.

**Story:**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 3<em>

"What," Loki was inwardly surprised at how calm he sounded was while he tried to process what Heimdall said.

"I cannot see him," for all of his stoicism and unflappable demeanor, Loki had never heard Heimdall's voice waver, the small thrill of fear-borne puzzlement in it – much like he had never heard Odin's voice so shaken earlier in the morning. Today was a day of firsts and somehow, he did not like it. It did not feel right, did not feel natural. He somehow wanted it to be _him_ that caused the unnatural, the God of Chaos as had been one of his monikers. For some odd reason, hearing both Heimdall and Odin sound so..._mortal_ for the lack of a better term- He shook his head a little, covering it by walking up to where Heimdall was standing by the edges and resolutely vowed not to look down into the black abyss of nothing- The screams that had strangled his voice- Icy blue eyes that promised infinite pain- He _fell_-

"I saw mountains bathed in Mjolnir's power before it was suddenly extinguished by a flash of blue," Heimdall said softly, a frown on his face as his golden eyes stared intently on a fixed point that Loki could not see beyond the mass of starlight and the passing of dusty dark nursery star clouds that hid parts of Asgard from the unwanted eyes of the other races beyond the realms' borders. "The Crown Prince did not raise his weapon and for a second, I thought I saw him talking with someone. Someone I could not see...until he was cloaked in shadow..."

Heimdall abruptly closed his mouth, his frown becoming even more pronounced and he looked like he was about to say more before he turned his head slightly and Loki looked back to see a young man dressed in the outfit of a Court page bow his head. There was nothing extraordinary about the young page, but Loki could not put his finger on what bothered him about the page with dark dirty blond hair and light eyes until he realized that it was his outfit. It was completely matte black with an occasional sheen of shiny black. That was not what the pages of either the domestic or realm court wore. There were faint designs on the outfit too, catching in the ambient light of the golden Observatory that looked like...feathers... Most telling was that the page's body was facing them, but he occasionally turned his head to glare at Jormungandr who had frozen, hands still half-way up when he had been plucking the skeins at the domed edges of the Observatory. Jormungandr had a petulant frown on his face, but looked like he was trying to ignore the looks the page was throwing at him.

"Munnin," Heimdall called out, bringing the page's head back towards them and Loki blinked, hiding his surprise.

He had long heard rumors that those who physically became familiars instead of the spellwork to summon a spirit-like familiar, taking the shape of whatever the caster wished, retained their humanoid forms. But even their humanoid forms had been limited and rarely used. Jormungandr was technically _not_ his familiar, just punished and forced into his serpentine-form by Odin due to his actions two years ago. Loki knew that there was spellwork involved that bound a familiar to the command of its master, but had not invoked it after Fury had given him Jormungandr in the aftermath. He supposed that he was merely content to see if Jormungandr would break away in rebellion again or pretend to stay close enough to strike once more. Binding him as a true familiar was a waste of his time and magicks.

But the fact that the young black-clad page who stood before him was Munnin, and _not_ in raven form... It begged the question as to why the Allfather allowed him to retain his human form when none of the Court nor anyone, save perhaps Heimdall – judging by how he knew it was Munnin – had ever seen the ravens out of their animal form. Even now, Loki thought of them as ravens and studying the young page, perhaps looking only a couple of hundred of years younger than he, wondered why they were in human form.

"Sleipnir is acclimating somewhat," Munnin shrugged as if it did not concern him and Loki could see bits of the aloof raven in the young man's countenance. It was...a bit disconcerting to say the least, but he kept his face passive and body in a disaffected manner. "Huugin is relating him exploits and tales for the Courtiers to feast upon."

Out of the corner of his eye, Loki caught what could have been a brief smile on the corner of Heimdall's lips and had the distinct mental image of Huugin and his continuous cawing and cackling as the raven was wont to do whenever not delivering the Allfather's summons or reporting back what it had observed. "The Court must be fascinated," Loki said dryly, wondering what Huugin's human form looked like compared to Munnin's.

"Very few remember us," Munnin's light eyes turned towards him and he was struck at how eerily similar they were to their raven forms, as if they knew and understand what he was implying. And he realized to a certain extent, the ravens _had_ known, considering they had human forms. They understood _everything_ and probably saw almost _everything_. Munnin's gaze told him that he was not fooled for one second by his attempt to hide his surprise at his appearance, but also told him that he did not care one whit about it.

"The Court must also be beside themselves," Loki arched an eyebrow and saw the faint hint of reaction from Munnin, the barest acknowledging of his head and realized it reminded him of when the raven tilted its head, its animal equivalent of laughter. He also realized that Munnin, and probably Huugin too, had been in their animal forms for so long that they had almost all but forgotten how to express themselves in their human bodies. Curious and interesting as he glanced beyond the human-raven to Jormungandr who had lowered his hands and was looking a bit nervous as he shifted from foot to foot, staring at Munnin. Considering that Jormungandr had initially tripped on his own feet and had not had much time to be in his serpentine form, he wondered if there was some animal instinct that took over whenever they were in their animal form for long periods – as if they had all but forgotten how to be human.

"News," Munnin asked in a flat tone, turning his light-eyed gaze on the Guardian who nodded solemnly.

"The Crown Prince has disappeared. I cannot see him in my gaze, but before he disappeared, I saw him talking with someone, but that person was cloaked in shadow, as if he knew my gaze was upon him," Heimdall intoned and Munnin tilted his head, staring at the Guardian with unblinking eyes.

"Shadow," he stated and Loki bristled a little at the unsubtle implication of that statement. Munnin was still as blunt as if he was a raven, human or not. But before he could counter the human-raven's statement Heimdall nodded again.

"It may be Baldr as Sleipnir claimed, but I do not know. I could not see," the Guardian replied and Loki once again, felt like there was a big piece he was missing – that he should have known something of this conversation, that the names were familiar if not the type of spellwork.

Apparently whomever Heimdall saw, this Baldr or whatever, was capable of cloaking him in shadow. He knew it was significant only because there were not many who were able to do that, and Loki knew for a fact where he had learned that particular spellwork from. A thought occurred to him; perhaps his teacher would be amiable to a conversation about her other students. Maybe this Baldr, or if it was not Baldr, was a failed student of hers, or perhaps someone whom her daughter had taken a shine to – he was not blind to know that Hel was fickle with her affections – if they really could be called that considering she ruled over the realm of the unjudged dead. Odin had said that Baldr had died in his arms, so perhaps Hel would know whom this Baldr was that the Allfather had revered so much and had utterly terrified Sleipnir. Loki did not miss the tremble of fear that had permeated his voice when he had spoken of him after his arrival.

The only problem he could see with this was Heimdall and the Allfather. Requesting permission to travel to Helheim was most certainly to be met with suspicion from the Allfather, even in a private audience sans the gossiping Court. Traveling through the shadows of Yggdrasil and cloaking himself to meet with Hel was also out of the question as he knew that Heimdall kept a strict eye on Lady Hel in the aftermath of the coterie's second attempt at insurrection. Heimdall would never falter in his duties as the watchman of Asgard ever again, especially when Hel was concerned.

There was another way to bypass Hel all together to see his teacher, her mother Lady Death, but it required stepping from the shadowed pathways of Yggdrasil and the last time Loki did that Thanos had been there to receive him... Even though Thanos was safely imprisoned in the Tesseract, Loki had no real inclination of enacting _that_ extreme of a measure all to get information from his former teacher.

So the next best option was to do his own research. Asking Queen Frigga would be an option except he had a feeling that she would not be so forthcoming considering her reaction to the day's events. The fact that Thor had all but disappeared from Heimdall's gaze was a bit of concern for him, but Loki was far more concerned about the caster of such a spell than of why Thor had disappeared. Thor was capable of defending himself and was most likely somewhere on Midgard, just away from Heimdall's gaze.

"As you wish, Guardian," Munnin's short curt bow was suddenly belied by him turning into a raven with a quiet popping sound and flying out of the Observatory. As soon as the raven flew away, Jormungandr let out an audible sigh before clearing his throat and looking sheepishly at them.

"You would do well to heed the authority of commands, Jormungandr," Heimdall said and Loki saw the young black-haired man nod, looking chastised before bowing slightly to him.

"Your absence at the feast may have been noticed, my Prince," he suggested quietly before leaving the Observatory to wait with the horses.

Loki flicked a look at Heimdall who only stared after Jormungandr's retreating form with an unreadable gaze and knew that the Guardian would not answer what had transpired between Munnin and Jormungandr. He knew that the ravens always stared at at Jormungandr whenever he was in his serpentine form, but had always thought that it was perhaps more predator-prey, than anything else. Judging by what had happened, he was wrong, but at the same time he did not exactly care of the opinions between the two. It was more than likely due to Jormungandr's actions two years previous that probably drew the ire of the ravens and for that matter, it was Jormungandr's fault.

Seeing that he would probably get no more from Heimdall, Loki made to leave when the Guardian spoke up, his voice quiet.

"Sleipnir was a good man," he intoned and Loki caught the wording of his statement and paused, turning his head a little, but still faced away from Heimdall.

He smiled shallowly as he tilted his head in acknowledgment, completely understanding the wordplay the Guardian had surprisingly given him. The fact that the two of them never saw eye-to-eye and combined with the wariness of mistrust from recent events, Heimdall was still intelligent enough to see things that some would be blind to. Heimdall had been, was still, a threat to Loki as far as he was concerned, but for now, there was a mutual understanding to what he said. There was something afoot that neither of them could see, but it seemed Heimdall knew that Loki was perhaps the only one able to find the answers needed to whatever mystery was started.

* * *

><p>"Your absence was noted at the feast," Loki was not surprised at the sound of her voice as he looked carefully through the hundreds of titles on the old tomes in one corner of the library within Asgard's palace walls.<p>

"Noticed, but not commented upon, per usual," he replied as he reached up and traced a title, squinting for a second, trying to remember if this was the one he had read on a footnote from another tome. Pursing his lips in disappointment, he brushed past the tome and read the next one before plucking it off of the shelf and set it against his other hand and opened it.

"Could you not take solace in the fact that your absence was noted?" she sounded a little annoyed and Loki snorted softly.

"Sif, my absence is always noted and greeted with a sigh of relief," he said, releasing the spellwork to lower himself to the ground with an absent wave of his hand. He found the passage he was looking for and bookmarked it with a finger before shutting the tome and carried it with his hand.

"Is that what you think?" he saw Sif waiting by the start of the shelves, her arms crossed in annoyance.

"You think no less when I decline your half-hearted requests to join the others in the training salle when Thor has gone to Midgard for weeks on end," Loki commented mildly as he brushed past her and placed the tome on the table he had been sitting at, opening it up to the page he had saved with his finger. He noted Jormungandr already eating from the plate of food that Sif must have dropped off, his body dis-intended a bit from swallowing what looked like part of a boar flank that had been cut. The snake was now slithering up the stem of a cup and drinking the wine.

"That is not true-"

"You, my dear Sif, may have more sympathy to try to include me in your training since, but the others do not care and like times of old, would have not begrudged me to come _train_ with you in Thor's absence," he waved an absent hand at her as he plucked a smaller piece of meat from the plate and ate it. He looked up to see her standing by the table, her lips pressed into a thin line and he knew he had hit the truth with her.

"You twist my words and intentions," she replied gesturing to the plate of food, "not even a thank you for ensuring you do not _starve_ to death while you work."

"Thank you," Loki replied insincerely and Sif rolled her eyes and growled under her breath.

"For the love of the Norns, I do not know why I put up with you-"

"You are free to leave," Loki interjected with a thin smile and Sif glared at him. His smile grew a little wider at her abrupt movement to leave before she turned back around and shook her head.

"You are not a _child_ anymore Loki. You wish to be King? You wish the respect?! Then _act_ like you want it," Sif said acidly, a mirthless smile on her face, "otherwise-"

"Your precious beloved Thor will always be King, Sif," Loki shot back, his calm mood evaporating in light of her words, "a thousand years of reputation precedes me and cannot be changed so quickly. I was always Thor's shadow and even you knew that. Paltry words to try to soothe a wound that has long festered will not get you anywhere."

"Who said anything about soothing a wound, Loki?" Sif stopped and turned to face him and Loki started, surprised, before the curl of a smile appeared on his lips. He loved it when Sif tried to fight back, to turn his words against him and this latest one was refreshing to say the least, aside from her previous attempts. It had been a long time, not even counting the time she had been 'bidden' to watch him, since she had that much hate, that much anger or focus in her wordplay.

And he realized, something was riling her up to act this way. Something bothered her because she had long ignored him or only made half-hearted attempts to fight back with her words since the breaking of his coterie hundreds of years ago. Actually, the last time he had this much of a fight with her was during their brief moment of physical companionship in the aftermath of the coterie, before they mutually decided to end it.

"Why _are_ you here, Sif?" he asked, "surely for naught of even a single event that I have done to earn your wrath and ire."

"You've always earned my ire," Sif replied a bit dryly before heaving a deep sigh and took a step back towards him, "Sleipnir."

"Seems to be a popular topic today, even in the dead of night," he was aware of the sandpaper feeling behind his eyes. He had been up before the Court was in session in the early morning to now in the library when the rest of Asgard was asleep except for the drunken rabble at taverns and the like.

"What did you find?" she asked and Loki arched an eyebrow.

"Barring the presumptuousness of that statement-"

"Loki, I know you," Sif interrupted again, her eyes flashing with an emotion that he could not quite identify, "there are two places you are most likely to be found if not in Court or near the Allfather's side biding your silent case to be Heir presumptive. Your rooms with your experiments or in the library."

Loki frowned a little, but before he could get a word in edgewise, Sif continued, "You hide when you do not want to be found. When you are afraid-"

"I am _not_ afraid-"

"-When you...you have not set forth to the other realms like you used to," Sif pursed her lips tightly and Loki narrowed his eyes.

"Those were always at Thor's biding, his...adventures, and I have no need to hide behind his _shadow_ like some errand boy destined to ride on his coattails," Loki replied a little testily, crunching angrily on a small nibble of food on his plate, "what I do is on my own-"

"And Asgard has noticed, Loki. Or have you not been observant during the feasts and the Courts?"

"And what would you know of the Courts? You, constantly _training_ with the Warriors Three, all because Lady Sif still thinks that she is of better birth than what her station has given her-"

"You have been hiding, Loki. Hiding for the past three years since you've returned. You only go to realms when the Allfather commands it, even Thor has extended invitations to Midgard-"

"Those mortals do not care, nor are of need for my help-"

"But you do not leave," Sif overrode whatever else he was saying, "you hermit here, and the Court has noticed. Loki, why do you think there has been no talk of your exploits, even when you tried to destroy Jotunheim? Why do you think the battle against Thanos has not been spoken nor of your fight with your coterie on the Helicarrier?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Loki noted Jormungandr had frozen a little, hissing softly before going back to eating a few slices of apples. "The Allfather forbade it," he replied; there was no other explanation.

"He might have," Sif replied, but shook her head, "since when did that stop you? Since when did Loki the Trickster God obeyed the rules laid out before him?"

Loki froze mid-bite and slowly put down the food he was about to eat and stared up at Sif with an icy look. She knew very well, if not all of the implications of what had happened in the past few years for him to be acting the way he did. But never did he expect _her_ to use it in such a way. It stung and he stared at her, "Get. Out."

She shook her head and crossed her arms again, "No."

"Get out," he replied softly, summoning a spell to throw at her for her insolence and comment.

"I will not-"

"Sif-"

"You must have seen the adoration the Allfather had for Sleipnir. Everyone could see it at the feast. You must have seen it and you felt _threatened_ by it. That's why you are down here in the library while the rest of Asgard sleeps. You do not know how to respond to that and so you want to know _everything_. Because you will not go against the Allfather after what happened with Thanos, because you wish his protection even with Thanos' imprisonment. But you do not trust Sleipnir and so you want to know about him so you can go to the Allfather with proof that this man...this man who had so suddenly dropped into the Court is _not_ who he claims to be."

He had not realized she had moved closer to him and suddenly leaned across the table and stared him straight in the eye, "You are _jealous_, Loki. So tell me, what did you find on Sleipnir?"

Loki stayed silent for a long moment before a faint smile appeared on his lips, "You think you know me so well Sif..." He saw her open her mouth and shook his head and tutted, "No. You have spoken your piece. I will give you the victory that you have spoken it well. It is to your credit to realize how much you have shown or not have shown in the past years. You are right, you know me well, know of my apparent habits or lack thereof. But do not presume that you know _everything_."

Her glare told him that she would not even considered the schemes and plans going on in his head nor of anything else, but she only nodded in response. Loki wondered if she knew of the geas he had made with Thanos, but she had not even spoken a single word of it nor did it seem that Thor had told her about it. The Avengers knew of it, but even then, they truly did not know what it was to have a geas. Director Fury might have had an inkling, but it was only that. No, Loki hoped that if his fruitless research for the past two years was for naught in Asgard's libraries, he would ask the Allfather regarding it – but it would many years after memory had settled some of what had happened on the Rainbow Bridge.

The Bridge.

The Bridge...That was it! That was where he heard the names first spoken- He remembered the excruciating pain, the agony of the pull of commands, of forcing him to do things he did not want to do. He remembered the black stitches on his lips, the first thing Thanos had done when they had left the Helicarrier. It had felt like years when he had personally stabbed the needle through his skin and into his flesh, but it had been only a few minutes. He held up a hand to stop Sif from saying anything as he closed his eyes and searched his memories, trying to avoid the ones that reminded him of what had happened and forced himself to focus. He remembered mostly pain, but also remembered the tessellation he had, his plan, buried deep within, to stop Thanos-

Loki took a deep breath and forced himself to focus past that, the irony that he had been felled by Thanos himself in a last ditch effort to take him out with him. Past all of that and to before...

_The Mad Titan tilted his head and turned to look at Thor who was rooted to the spot, unable to do anything except breathe, "Look at him, Allfather, he knows nothing of what we speak. Allfather, are you so ashamed to have killed your own brother Loki who slayed Baldr before him that you dare not tell either of your sons, especially the one named after a long lost older brother, before you?"_

"Baldr was Odin's younger brother, and Loki...his older one," he murmured absently, opening his eyes and grabbing one of the tomes in the small pile he had collected, pushing away the plate of food. Jormungandr hissed in surprise, but slithered over and stared with a curious reptilian look as he opened it up and started to flip through it. It made sense now, what Heimdall had said and also some of what Sleipnir said earlier in the throne room. He had skipped over the family tree in this particular tome only because he thought he knew what Heimdall meant, but perhaps it was something else.

"The Allfather was not the Crown Prince?" Sif blinked in surprise and Loki gave her a brief humorless smile.

"Surprised are we?"

"Um-"

"Here," he stopped at the illuminated manuscript of the genealogy of the House of Bor, Odin's predecessor. Underneath Bor's name were three names, Loki, Odin, and Baldr. However, he noticed something odd about Baldr's name and saw that it had an additional dotted line and was a little lowered next to Loki and Odin's name, as if someone hastily fitted it into the manuscript. Loki's eyes traced over it before glancing down at Odin's own and saw that Thor's line was solid while his was dotted, but still equal to where Thor's name was. "Baldr was adopted..." he murmured quietly before looking back up at his namesake's name and saw that there was an additional line drawn downward to denote heirs. Except this one was dotted and Sleipnir's name was on it.

"Sleipnir was the Crown Prince's adopted son..." Sif murmured, also peering at the manuscript.

She absently moved her hand away as Jormungandr nudged at it and slithered over to look. It explained Heimdall's comment, but not why Heimdall had not easily said that Sleipnir was the Crown Prince's adopted son. But then again, the Guardian had stated that Sleipnir had helped Odin kill the Crown Prince after Baldr had been slain...or supposedly now if the red-haired man's words were true. Loki knew that a renouncement of that claim would have eliminated the line and Sleipnir's name from the royal house's line, but the fact that it was still in the tome and manuscript meant that it had not been renounced.

And judging by how fearful and serious Sleipnir was mentioning that Baldr was alive...something did not add up. "The obvious reason is that Sleipnir claims to have escaped Baldr only to seek revenge upon the father that had been slain."

"Obvious?" Sif glanced at him, "is it not the truth? Would you not have killed those who had tried to kill Odin?"

"I did..." he gave her a look before shrugging, "Laufey."

She pursed her lips together, irritated, "After you let them in."

"A ruse, no doubt," he shrugged again and saw her narrow her eyes, not believing his words for one second. He was a bit surprised that Thor had not babbled to his friends what had happened in the moments after he had killed Laufey before he had gone to the Bifrost to wipe out Jotunheim. Thor had certainly seen his deception back then, but the fact that Sif made no other comment to indicate she knew what else had transpired, accusations thrown in the Allfather's resting room, amongst other things, surprised him. It would have been readily easy for Thor to say such things, to bask in the grandeur that he had saved Jotunheim from Loki's hand at the heavy cost of the Bifrost, but had prevented the genocide of an entire race.

"Then why is it not obvious?" Sif asked and Loki smiled slightly. This was why he sometimes tolerated Sif, not because she always jumped like any other warrior to the obvious conclusion, especially whenever Thor was involved, but because she wanted to _know_ the reason why it was not obvious. The Warriors Three would not even deign to hear any other explanation except if it was coming from Odin himself, but Sif had at least some inkling of being a strategist. Breaking the expectation of the Court for a female warrior probably had something to do with it, but it at least showed Loki that she was still somewhat open minded about certain things – and mulishly bull-headed on others, especially in regards to the other races and magick.

"There is something that does not add up. For one thing, did Sleipnir mention anything about Baldr during the feast?" he asked, cursing inwardly that he did not go back to the feast as the others had suggested.

"Yes, but only in context of a tale from long past. The older members of the Court remember some of his exploits and wished the younger ones, the Warriors Three and I included to hear of them," she replied.

"According to Sleipnir, Baldr is alive and on Midgard," Loki said and saw Sif stiffen a little.

"We should warn Thor-"

"The idiotic fool can take care of himself," Loki ignored her plea, even though the fact that Thor had all but disappeared from Heimdall's gaze disturbed at him. Heimdall had not even mentioned seeing a Vasily Karpov to which Sleipnir had mentioned being Baldr's name on Midgard. Then again, Sleipnir may have been lying, but to what end? Killing the Allfather right now would serve no purpose and for some odd reason, something about Sleipnir struck Loki as not really wanting to do that, considering how Eir, Frigga, and Odin had reacted. The sheer amount of adoration and of affection shown to someone whom suddenly just tore into existence in the throne room and not even a single one of them had batted an eye at the use of such magicks. He drew in a quick quiet breath...Sif had been right, he _was_ jealous.

What was it that Heimdall had said...the previous Crown Prince had been Sleipnir's mentor, teacher, and confidant. He was to be the Crown Prince's Sentinel, a title he had never heard of, nor ever seen it recorded anywhere. Then something happened and Baldr was supposedly killed, then Crown Prince Loki killed by Sleipnir and Odin. Sleipnir was a battlemage...and had said that his core was ripped out by Baldr which meant-

"Crown Prince Loki was a mage...as was Baldr..." he whispered, the realization that _magick_ existed in such form, existed in such _open_ form in Asgard long ago. In the present Asgard, magick so readily banned, if not so much not even spoken with reverence and awe and instead with a fearful hatred and unnatural dislike of it.

"Correction, my Prince," the two of them turned in their chairs to see Sleipnir standing by the entrance to the library, a solemn expression on his face, "both the Crown Prince and Prince Baldr were magisters. The best of us...the strongest of us..."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

More mental casting notes to pass along: Munnin (and also Huugin) in my head are played by Jamie Bell channeling a bit of Griffin from "Jumper." I unfortunately had this cast long ago before I found out he was playing Ben Grimm/The Thing in the reboot of "The Fantastic Four," later this year and don't quite have the heart to change it to another actor (plus eventually I want some weird reference/nod to "Snowpiercer" later in the story).


	4. Chapter 4

The Trickster: Ragnarok

by: Shadow Chaser

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own any characters from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. All characters belong to Marvel Entertainment, Marvel Comics, and Disney. I am not writing this story for profit, only for my own (twisted) amusement. I will try to return the characters unharmed, but some they might have a few scuff marks.

**Story:**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 4<em>

"Both the Crown Prince and Baldr were magisters," Sleipnir was leaning against the door to the library before he pushed off of it and stepped in, "they were the best and strongest of us."

"Us?" Loki asked mildly, noting to his slight irritation that Sif had been unable to keep herself from jumping a little in surprise. He himself had certainly been caught off guard, having not even been able to _sense_ Sleipnir when he was well aware of everything around him. But he kept himself composed as he certainly expected people to be randomly appearing in the library – which truth be told, was what Sif had done earlier.

"The group of people, future advisers one might say, that the Allfather and his brothers collected in the years before his ascent to the throne," Sleipnir made no note of Sif's movement and instead looked interested in the tomes scattered across the table Loki was at, "ah, history books and the like..." He cleared his throat slightly, "I...learned in so many words today at the feast of, um...about the use of magick nowadays."

Loki only stared blankly at the older man who grimaced a little and absently picked up one of the smaller ones, flipping through it. "I supposed that it was the former Crown Prince's fault for Odin to enact the extreme measures that he did; all but outright forbidding magick or even to speak of it..." Sleipnir sighed, "I think nostalgia got the better of me and I wanted to see if the library held the lore from thousands of years past...I had not expected to find you up at this hour, my Prince, nor with your lady companion-"

Sif made a very unladylike scoffing noise in the back of her throat, making Sleipnir pause and look at her before looking at him as if trying to puzzle out something before he grimaced a little. "I, uh...apologize if I meant to imply if-"

"Obviously your grasp of Court politics has waned in the...what, hundreds, thousands of years of exile on...Midgard was it?" Loki drawled out softly, watching the red-haired man carefully. So far, Sleipnir seemed to play the innocence and guileless exile part well, but the fact that he could not sense him prickled at something _dangerous_ in him. There could be truth in the other man's words and actions that he truly had been at the mercy of Baldr, but the fact that he walked the shadows to get from Midgard to the throne room of Asgard of all places told Loki that Sleipnir was a person to watch. There was flecks of white in the auburn-red hair of Sleipnir, and his face was lightly lined with age, but Loki would have pegged Sleipnir to be no older than five-hundred years older than he.

Considering the limited knowledge he had on familiars, and based on Munnin's appearance, which was clearly younger than he - but had served the Allfather for much longer than he had been alive - there was at least some truth to Sleipnir as a familiar. Now whether it was for Baldr or someone else, that was another story.

Loki caught the slight flickering of something behind Sleipnir's icy blue eyes as he gently set the tome down, "You do not believe my tale."

"It could be just a tale-"

"You believe me harm to Asgard or even to the House of Odin," Sleipnir interrupted him before shaking his head and sighing quietly again, "and your tomes scatter across this table speak of it as much."

"We did not-"

"I thank you, Lady Sif, for your attempt to dissuade me from the Prince's research here," Sleipnir turned a thin smile on Sif who pinched her lips together in a frown. He turned back and Loki regarded him with a steady look. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jormungandr curl into a tight coiled ball, tongue flicking in and out, unsure as to whether to stay where he was or get ready to potentially attack the other man.

"I wanted to thank you for your vigilance," Sleipnir looked restrained but earnest and gestured to a chair at the long table, "do you mind if I sit? I do not wish to convince you that I mean no harm, but wish to at least impart what has transpired to make you do this much research. I know because if I was a Sentinel, then this would be the first place I would be."

Loki nodded as Sleipnir took the seat, leaving enough space of one chair in between them, as Sif spoke up, "Sentinel? I have never heard of that title..."

"Comparable to Heimdall's station as Guardian of the Realms. Except it is one given not to warriors, but to mages. The first line of defense of Asgard," Sleipnir replied before tilting his head a little, "Lady Sif, I beg you to put aside your prejudices against magick-"

"I do not have any-"

Loki only shot a quick look at her from across the table and she fell silent before sitting down, arms crossed across her chest in annoyance.

"I at least _tolerate _you..." she grumbled quietly and Jormungandr hissed quietly in laughter before she glared at the snake. "Not you, you stupid traitorous snake."

"Ah...this must be Jormungandr," Sleipnir looked at Jormungandr who flicked out his tongue, tasting the air before settling back on a coil, but Loki noted with some flickering remnant that may have been pride that the serpent was still tense, ready to attack. He himself kept his hands held in front of him, no magick tingling at his fingertips, but nonetheless ready in case Sleipnir did anything unexpected. Eir might have said that his core was ripped out, the borrowed magick to transport him from Midgard to Asgard all but gone, but the fact that Sleipnir explained what a Sentinel was told Loki enough – Sleipnir had once been trained in the warrior's arts. No one who claimed to be the first line of defense of Asgard was stupid enough to not be trained in some physical defense or offense when their primary skills failed them.

"Former Director Fury's notes of what had transpired on the treatise made two years previous made note of what happened to Jormungandr when he was brought for judgment on Asgard. There was also a footnote of his supposed imprisonment on Midgard itself hundreds of years previous, but no other information was noted in his report," Sleipnir explained as he tapped a hand lightly on the table. The rhythm was indiscriminate, but it seemed to soothe him to an extent as he looked at Loki. "The organization SHIELD fell a year ago, taken down by Captain Rogers, or rather, Captain America, because it had been supposedly corrupted by it's rival organization HYDRA. Are you familiar-"

"Seventy years ago, HYDRA's leader Johann Schmidt had the Tesseract," Loki explained, "located in Tønsberg, Norway."

"HYDRA survived after the death of Schmidt," the red-haired man shrugged, "but the truth was different. Baldr and I nurtured HYDRA even before Schmidt had taken over, so we were well aware of events happening. SHIELD fell, HYDRA rose, and all of the secrets and reports now in the public eye of the mortals." His fingers absently made their way to the tome he had picked up earlier and now tapped his tuneless rhythm on it, "We learned a lot about the Avengers, about what the mortals think of the situation on Asgard and Baldr accelerated his plans."

"And so you helped this...Baldr," Loki gestured absently to the page he and Sif had been looking at.

"Because it was the only way to escape after thousands of years of forced servitude and exile," Sleipnir shook his head, "I read SHIELD's reports of you, complete with psychological analysis, background-"

"No doubt colored by Thor's words-"

"-Yes, even that, but this is why I wished to speak to you, my Prince. Please...you are not blinded by the affection, the memories of whom I used to be, who I am like Odin, Frigga, Eir, the twins Huugin and Munnin, and even Heimdall. They..." he shook his head, "the fact that you are here, searching for my past, of who I am because something does not sit right with you, I am _glad_."

"Why?" Loki was truly curious as to why someone would be glad for him to be searching into his past, when it was normally the opposite. It only served to heighten his suspicions and make him scrutinize Sleipnir further.

"Because Baldr intends to use the Crown Prince, your brother Thor, to take the throne of Asgard for himself," Sleipnir said quietly.

* * *

><p>"My Queen, she is here to speak to you," her dark...skin, if it truly could be called that, almost blended in with the supposed dim light of the great hall, but to Lady Hel, it was bright enough. Most of the dead that appeared before her came with the expectation that this was not the bright lights of Valhalla or of the Heaven, Nirvana, or any other trivial religious bright lights of salvation. This was her realm and thus she kept it as such.<p>

"Thank you Sigyn, you may continue your watch," she replied, smoothing out an absent wrinkle in her dress, sending the silent howls of the damned across the vast hall. The Valkyrie, who once had been relatively mortal, but now was kept under her careful watch as a promise to a certain Asgardian Prince, bowed her head, her beautiful face lighting up with the fires of her kind that had been seared to her to keep her alive as she floated away, returning to her duties. But then again, she supposed that her version of beauty was far different than what most people though of – if the lack of a face where flames licked internally and blackened skeletal bones covered her form, a true fire atronarch, a fire demon of Muspelheim instead of only in name.

She smoothed out another wrinkle, sending a burst of howls across the cavernous room once more before she looked up, _feeling_ the change in the room rather than the announcement or approach of the being in question. It was only a courtesy that her guest afforded to her daughters, approaching swiftly as the swipe of a sword, cut of a dagger, or even the short blast of a gun or explosion that take others into her embrace. Whether they land in her realm or were escorted by Sigyn by her duties as a Valkyrie to the heavenly paradise of their choosing in the aftermath was another story.

"How fares you Mother?" she looked up and greeted the hooded figure. Lady Death by all rights, looked exactly like how many pictured Death to look like – skeletal, hooded, and always carrying a scythe. Only a very select few knew what was under the cloak, and only one knew Death in such an intimate way. But that particular one individual was currently languishing in his prison of the Tesseract, and certainly not Hel's father. No, she and her sisters had been pulled from Death itself, her truest daughters in the sense. Certainly her mother's lover would have liked to have claimed them as his daughters, like many he had 'adopted' over the years and turned them into his personal assassins, but she claimed no allegiance nor loyalty to that creature in the Tesseract. His true-born sons certain always seemed to think so, a product of various affairs when Lady Death was fickle.

"Sated," her inhumanly light eyes peered out from under her hood as Hel stared at her, pleased at her appearance in her Court. Her voice was clipped, deep enough to be masculine, but feminine enough that it truly was that Death had no gender, but considering that Death took everyone when it was their time, she supposed that it was a bit of the influences and affection she had for certain others that she personified her mother as, well, feminine.

She sat back, content to let her mother speak when she wished it,s as silence reigned in the vast room. The silence would have been enough, filling her with contentment, but there was always a reason for Death's appearance in the realm of the unjudged dead – and it was not to deliver the newly deceased.

"Storm," Death spoke up and Lady Hel noticed a shift in her inhuman light eyes, "Ragnarok."

She only nodded once, absently shifting in her chair, sending out several silent howls of the damned from her dress. So it was nearly time then...and though the past two years since her last appearance in front of the Court of Odin Allfather had passed by relatively quickly – to her only a blink of an eye – she had been waiting for this moment. And truth be told, she was mildly curious as to what would happen. What would be the tipping point...what would _he_ chose?

"A promise?" she asked and only got the barest hint of a smile, and not even, as a reply before she felt, more than saw her mother disappear to resume her duties. Ah, so it was a promise and Lady Hel wondered what had been made in the minutes in Death's embrace on the Rainbow Bridge three years ago. Interesting indeed...

* * *

><p>"And you were to walk this Baldr and Thor across the shadows, am I correct?" Loki continued for Sleipnir, "but you escaped with the power you were given."<p>

"Yes," Sleipnir replied, "and even now I can feel the mental tugs of the bond a familiar to its master, calling me back to Midgard, to be by his side." He gestured to Jormungandr, "Surely you summon him in the same manner?"

The lie was easily on Loki's lips, the quick 'of course' and the easiest way for him to smooth it over with some nonsensical explanation, but something stopped him from saying the words and instead he smiled fractionally, "No. I do not."

He was rewarded with the smallest start of surprise from Sleipnir, one hidden behind the man's icy blue eyes that Loki knew was not laced with falsehood. Sif only looked confused, but even she seemed surprised – as surprised as someone could be who knew nothing of summons or magick; he supposed it was enough. "But perhaps it is easier for you to resist the call since you claim to not have any magicks within you."

"You wonder when I might take a weapon and demand to be sent back via Bifrost," Sleipnir shrugged as if it was nothing, "it is not so sinister as the geas contracts you made with Director Fury."

"You know of geas contracts?" Loki asked, curious as to what the former mage might have known about them.

Sleipnir raised an eyebrow at him, "I do know that they were forbidden magick when I was still with the Court, and guessing the attitudes of the present Court, it is still forbidden magick if not at all discussed. How you have learned it to create two contracts with Director Fury is interesting. What I knew about them was that they involve blood magick and thus a person's core." A small bitter smile, one that somehow made Loki distinctly uncomfortable for reasons that he could not fathom, appeared on the man's lips, "Perhaps since I do not have a core, I do not know how a geas would work."

"And how different is it for a familiar?"

"It can be ignored without consequences considering what Director Fury put into his report. Something about...death?" Sleipnir's smile disappeared as he looked at him and Loki shrugged.

"If one was inclined to ignore the geas in such a way that it reneges on the agreement made," he answered and saw the quick flash of disappointment across the man's face before he nodded. Sleipnir had been hoping for more, but to what end, Loki did not know. Perhaps it was truly innocent in a manner of speaking, but he was not inclined to share anymore than the vagueness of it being spoken – and hopefully whatever Fury had put into his report.

"Baldr will continue to put pressure for my return, but I have had years of practice by his side and will be ignoring it for sometime. I will petition the Allfather to heed my warning and summon your brother Thor back with all haste though," Sleipnir said, "any chance that Baldr may have with his plan will put Asgard in great danger."

"If he was exiled to Midgard, it only proves that he can affect Midgard. If he does not have any means to travel from there, then how-" Sif started confused before Sleipnir shook his head, interrupting her.

"Baldr means to exert his influence and control Thor-"

Sif barked out a laugh, "Preposterous! Thor cannot be-"

"He has the sceptre you invaded the Midgard with, my Prince," Sleipnir leaned forward a little, and Loki frowned, "this was why I told you that his plans were accelerated with the downfall of SHIELD and the rise of HYDRA. When you left the sceptre with Director Fury two years previous, it was supposedly sent to orbit around the Earth, Midgard. But in reality, it ended up in the hands of SHIELD's enemies."

"Loki, that sceptre-"

"Is able to control the minds of others," Loki replied softly, not so much concern about the weapon, but rather interested in where it had gone to after he had left it, to Sif's half inquiry, "to twist and bend them to one's will." He looked at Sleipnir, "Even though the fool is dimwitted and an oaf, not all of Thor is brute strength."

"Wait, he will try to control _Thor_ with the sceptre?! But that's impossible!" Sif shook her head violently, unable to believe what they were saying. "It cannot be-"

"Baldr was shrewd, devious, and clever enough to _fake_ his death when the Crown Prince came after him in his fit of madness. The fact that he was clever enough to stay _hidden _on Midgard from Heimdall's eyes all these thousands of years should be a testament to his strength of mind to keep the Guardian of all people from realizing that he was alive. I do not lie, my Prince, nor to you my Lady, that Baldr _wants_ the throne of Asgard and would do anything in his power to get it," Loki could hear real fear in the man's voice.

"Why tell me?" he finally asked after a moment of silence, "surely you have heard the rumors, known of whom I am."

"Loki Jotunkiller amongst other epithets and names given? Silvertongue? Trickster?" the other man smiled briefly and bitterly as he managed to compose himself and sat back once more, "I've heard. The tales told at tonight's feast spoke of previous deeds, but also of the Warriors Three and the good Lady's battles with the current Crown Prince. Your absence from a majority of those tales as well as your absence from the feast did spark rumors."

"Not so out of touch with Court politics as you claim earlier," Loki said and caught the brief flash of surprise on the man's face before he accepted the statement.

"My exile on Midgard required me to play politics with those who ruled the countries," he said with a small shrug, "perhaps it was no different here, except for the long wordplay and subtleties that seem to take months instead of hours." He twisted his neck a little, and covered a small yawn, "My apologies, it seems that the hours I kept on Earth are vastly different than the ones on Asgard. Partially also why I was curious to hear voices in the library when most of Asgard slept. Though now it seems to have caught up to me." He folded his hands together, "I tell you because you are one of the few who has the Allfather's ear, but are not influenced by memories of who I am or what I have done."

"The adopted son of the Crown Prince," Loki ignored Sleipnir's words about him having the ear of Odin – it was more for the benefit and influence at Court and a not so subtle reminder for Thor that he should be paying more attention to Asgard than off gallivanting with his mortal friends. Besides, he stood at Odin's left hand side, _not_ his right – which was most definitely occupied by Frigga and by Thor whenever he felt like making an appearance at Court.

"My former title. I am surprised that it was not excised from that tome you were looking at," the auburn-haired man gestured to it, "I certainly would have had it done give the events that happened."

"The tale of the battle between Odin and his brother that you and, um, H-Huugin spoke of at the feast?" Sif looked like she had swallowed something sour at mentioning Huugin. Loki again regretted that he was not at the feast – it certainly sounded entertaining if not for the visual factor of seeing the Allfather's ravens as humans; speaking as if they had been part of the Court all along - just not quite in their human forms.

"To commit patricide, especially one adopted like I was and lauded, given titles, land, holdings, honor, accolades that one received in such service..." Sleipnir's icy blue eyes looked distant for a moment as he shook his head wistfully, "the fact that Odin left his brother's name in the line and mine after it...he loved his older brother too much to dishonor his memory like that. And...mine I suppose." The older man pursed his lips for a second as he looked away, "I should have been stripped of my title after what I had helped Odin do. I was the Crown Prince's heir and I helped kill him. I was...lucky to not have been killed when I arrived this morning. I thought...I thought I was going to be. Maybe it was a punishment of sorts that I fell to Earth, to Midgard, after committing my deed. Or perhaps the Norns decided that my fate was to be bound to Baldr for committing patricide and for Odin's fratricide for him to rule as Allfather."

The faraway look disappeared from Sleipnir's eyes as he turned back to look at Loki, "I ask of you, my Prince, to plead with the Allfather to retrieve Thor from Midgard. Odin does not understand Baldr like I do. He and the rest of the coterie had been deceived-"

"Coterie?" Loki was surprised at how flat he managed to keep his voice while he inwardly recoiled in shock, "a coterie?"

"Y-Yes," Sleipnir blinked, surprised, "that was what had been formed between Odin and his brothers and the others like myself, Heimdall, Lady Hel, Frigga, Eir, Tyr, Freya, Freyr..." Something seemed to click in Sleipnir as he tilted his head to the side, "O-Odin did not explain any of this to you or even to Thor?"

Loki shook his head, unable to trust himself from even speaking through the sudden swooping anger that filled him. The Allfather had a _coterie_ of all things. A coterie. Not just one of mages, as clearly Eir was part of it and even Hel of all people. But a coterie where _warriors_ like Heimdall were included. Never mind the fact that it included his brothers Baldr and the Crown Prince Loki, both whom were magick users! He had only stumbled upon such a word when _his_ coterie had been training with Lady Death – and there had not been a single word from Odin when he had _introduced_ his coterie to the Court before Fenrir had enacted the plan of regicide.

Sleipnir shook his head and rubbed his eyes as he muttered, "Odin, what in the name of the Norns were you thinking?! Not telling them to form their coterie? Not..." He let loose a very audible sigh, "It would have been explained when Thor would have been crowned as the Crown Prince and heir-in-waiting."

"The coronation was interrupted," Sif said quietly and Loki kept his face neutral, knowing what she meant. There was never any official ceremony to finish the coronation, but everyone knew that Thor had taken on the title of Crown Prince and so assumed that the rest of the ceremony must have happened behind closed doors.

"But I thought-" the older man looked puzzled then shook his head, "you know what, never mind. I do not know what Odin was thinking, but it certainly explains a few things, especially why magick has all been outlawed or not even spoken of in such an open manner since he took the throne. The Allfather is too frightened to do anything that would upset the balance or put his family in harms' way." Sleipnir laughed a little bitterly, "Why all but hush magick use? Why shun it? Because Baldr supposedly died from the Crown Prince's madness, that's why. Too ashamed of his brothers' actions to even consider magick to be used anymore. Malign the battlemages because, 'oh no they might go mad from what happened to my family.' Why not tell his sons that they should form a coterie because the divide between warriors superstition and battlemages is too great..."

"Unnatural...not needed when all there is, is the sword and shield," Loki whispered, feeling an odd sense of kinship with what the other man was saying, "a monster..." He sensed more than saw Sif's aborted movement before he looked at her, a sharp painful smile on his lips, "It was always the truth Sif. Monster..."

She looked away, closing her eyes, "I refuse to believe that."

"There is no truth in your voice Sif. You say that lie to yourself because you still refuse to see it," he replied before looking back at Sleipnir, "You wish me to speak to the Allfather to have Heimdall retrieve Thor?"

"Yes. Because if Heimdall is the same person that I have known, he will not do anything unless it is a direct order from the Allfather. His position as Guardian means he took an oath and Heimdall will follow the oath to the very last letter," Sleipnir looked a little hopeful, his icy blue eyes brightening a little.

"You'd be surprise at what orders Heimdall follows," Loki still distinctly remembered Heimdall attacking him on the edges of the Observatory. "You would be also remiss to know that Thor has already disappeared from Heimdall's sight."

That got reactions from both Sif and Sleipnir. Sif sat forward, uttering a flat 'What' to which Loki ignored while Sleipnir's eyes widened, fear creeping back into them.

"Shit, shit, shit, fuck..." Loki had to admit, it was a little odd hearing the mortal swears coming from Sleipnir's mouth as it devolved into incoherent mutters before he shook his head and ran a hand through his short cropped hair, "shit, we're too late...we're..." He gritted his teeth for a second and looked at Loki, "We need to return to Midgard, at least someone needs to return there and _find_ Thor before-" He huffed a breath, "It means that Baldr's already got him, at least maybe controlling him through the sceptre or doing something if he's cloaked from Heimdall's sight-"

"Should Baldr have magick after all this time-"

Sleipnir suddenly slammed his hands on the table, making the heavy tomes jump and Jormungandr to hiss wildly as he lifted his head, "You're not _listening_ to me, Loki! We _need- _I need- No, I definitely do _not_ want to go back there, but someone needs to! Baldr _faked_ his death! That means he still has the powers of a _magister_! Do you even fucking know what that means?!"

"Please, do enlighten me," Loki replied coldly, drawing himself up as he sat in his chair and stared at the older man who was staring at him like he was an idiot. It must have occurred to Sleipnir that he was still speaking to royalty, and to the second Prince of Asgard to boot, as he suddenly deflated and tried to compose himself. He ran a hand through his short red hair and breathed out a loud sigh and looked away, his fingers tapping nervously on the book once more.

"Magisters are technically the highest title one could achieve in terms of the magickal arts. The Jotuns are known for their line of magisters before they were all supposedly killed in a massive rebellion eons ago. The other races...they were lucky if one or two of them could achieve the rank in their longest years of study. Powerful, strong, they traversed the universe, peacekeepers for the most part, or warmongers. A magister at the head of an army with battlemages and warriors as support...that army conquered," Sleipnir pursed his lips as he tried to settle his nervous tapping, "When I studied under the Crown Prince, I learned a lot of the secrets of magisters. Rumors that the fire demons of Muspelheim were a race of all magisters, but their spellcasting gone awry with some powerful artifact that was made of stone. I learned that the Jotun magisters might have been wiped out by Asgard itself in its conquest of the nine realms. Direct competition you see...though they tried to challenge others beyond the realms, but were pushed back because of other artifacts created to hamper Asgard's conquest."

Sleipnir laughed a little hysterically, "It just hit me...it makes sense now...why..." He looked up at him, "Baldr with the power of a magister from long years of study, the Crown Prince Loki as a magister with his long years of study...why I was taken into his care...trained...why Odin was part of their coterie...Asgard was ready to conquer again..."

Loki knew he was missing something in Sleipnir's words, but decided not to ask as he saw an oddly familiar mad light in the older man's icy blue eyes. It unnerved him as Sleipnir opened his mouth again. "Baldr has had these thousands of years of exile to further his study as a magister, my Prince. He's had _years_ of subjecting those around him to his will and words, if not through the power he wields. He has worked behind the shadows of Midgard's history all these years, manipulating politics, wars, as HYDRA and as other organizations with the clear goals of furthering mortal technology and uplift it to that of Asgard. The advent of SHIELD, Thor's arrival four years previous... With the staff you used to control Agent Barton and Dr. Selvig..."

"...Thor does not stand a chance," Loki finished for him, a disquieting sensation filling him. _He_ knew how the sceptre worked, how to twist the thoughts of those he touched the crown to. The brute force suppression of Agent Barton's rebellious tendencies under the sceptre three years previous had been tempered by the ease of a few nudges and hints with Dr. Selvig's mind. He had told Jane Foster that Selvig did what he had done with an open mind, he had only just given him some direction and nurtured his curiosity about the Tesseract back then. Thor's Jane had called him a monster and he had only smiled at her.

Heimdall had reported that Thor had been _talking_ to someone cloaked in shadow before he disappeared from his sight. If this Baldr truly had used the sceptre on Thor, whether it be the brute force suppression or even the nudging hints, it meant that Baldr had time to study it. And since SHIELD's fall, it meant that whatever notes had been made on the sceptre was out in the wide open, giving Baldr more information about the sceptre. The fact of the matter was that Thor had been _talking_ supposedly to Baldr. As far as Loki knew, Thor never talked and always led with his hammer first. Thor never stood a chance when talking, especially with his opponent.

And now...if it was all true, Baldr controlled Thor.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

A lot of little minor plot threads left hanging in _Atonement_ just coming together now. Hopefully if you've read the cliff notes or even if you've followed the series since Atonement, you're starting to realize the scope of things. Also, per usual, Odin kind of really needs to work on his communication – I mean, he's far from the perfect, loving King, but he's apparently very recalcitrant.


	5. Chapter 5

The Trickster: Ragnarok

by: Shadow Chaser

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own any characters from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. All characters belong to Marvel Entertainment, Marvel Comics, and Disney. I am not writing this story for profit, only for my own (twisted) amusement. I will try to return the characters unharmed, but some they might have a few scuff marks.

**Story:**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 5<em>

Loki was acutely aware that most others, his oafish brother included, would have gone straight to the Allfather to demand the return of the wayward Crown Prince – or rather if it was his and Thor's place reversed, Thor would have loudly demanded it for all the realms to hear propriety be damned. But that was not his way, not without understanding all of the pieces of the story he had been given. There was still something Sleipnir was holding back, he could clearly see it when they had spoken the previous night. Of course, Sleipnir also had said that he was not there to convince him that he meant no harm. That statement in of itself bothered him. It was as if the other man knew exactly what he he had been thinking and so further his suspicions about Sleipnir.

Plus, he still could not shake the feeling that there was something _dangerous_ about Sleipnir. Whether that danger was to him, to Asgard, to the Allfather – though he actually did not care enough about that – but he could not pinpoint the sense of danger. The easiest solution was to petition the Allfather and throw the red-haired man into the cells below Asgard. For proof, Loki knew he could have easily lied and said that Sleipnir was an assassin – come to kill him in the library at night. The lie would have been accepted and have been believed considering Sleipnir's unusual arrival and clear use of magicks witnessed by some in the Court. But something told Loki that dealing with Sleipnir in that fashion would have been far more detrimental than to puzzle out what bothered him. Letting Sleipnir roam free was the other option – especially considering what he had heard about the feast last night, lauded and given a place of honor amongst the head of the table. The Court was now well aware of the favor Sleipnir had with the Allfather and Allmother.

Again, Loki wished he had been at the feast instead of ignoring it to talk to Heimdall or even at the library. But he considered missed opportunities as another chance to create another window of opportunity. And that was something he was good at – creating opportunities.

"My Prince? What can we do for you?" a light voice politely asked as he pulled himself out of his thoughts and focused on the young Healer who was dressed in the smock and tunic of an apprentice.

"Eir," he said and the apprentice nodded once before gesturing deeper into the Healing Halls.

"Near one of the Soul Forges, sire," she bowed her head as he swept past her without a further word heading deeper into the Healing Halls.

The too-clean smell of the Healing Halls always bothered him, as did the faint tingle of healing magicks and healing stones at work. Those who were trained as Healers always had their voices at a quiet soothing murmur, and it irritated him to no end. Polite, calm, and rarely flustered, they oozed a sense of falsehood that grated at him, even if people around them were dying. A small measure of comfort for those in their last moments somehow struck him as wrong – a pity that was not needed. Death was death. There was no end to it just-

"Loki?" he stirred out of his thoughts again, briefly wondering why he was so distracted today, as he saw Eir send her latest patient off from the Soul Forge she had been operating on. The warrior, clearly sweat-covered from training, scurried off with a quick glance at them before making himself scarce.

"Jormungandr," he replied to her inquiry and held out his hand as the aforementioned serpent slithered from where he had been perched on his shoulder down to his arm and hand before coiling onto Eir's weathered ones. She smiled ruefully at Jormungandr who flicked his tongue in and out, tasting the air. "It has come to light that he has been spending a lot of time at the Observatory where the magick concentration is the highest-

"And you wish to know if this is normal," Eir finished for him before clucking her tongue a little as she went over to the Soul Forge she had been working at and placed Jormungandr in the middle of it, "Jor, I will need you to shift to your human form in order to examine your core."

The snake blinked once before lifting his head up to stare at Loki as if to ask permission to which Eir only sighed and shook her head. "You certainly act like one for not even being bound," she murmured quietly and Loki glanced at her before she met his gaze with a knowing one of her own. "I have had years of experience dealing with the magicks of familiars and the core. The spellwork I placed upon Jormungandr to adhere to the Allfather's judgment of not being able to shift to his human form has long been unraveled and I sense your hand in it. The fact that Jor still asks permission even if the threads and skeins of a familiar binding him to you are not present is telling, Loki."

Loki stayed silent, recognizing the hidden reprimand in her tone that she had long used on him when he and Thor were younger and had gotten into heaps of trouble. Eir was probably one of the few who could speak so frankly to him, something that he did not quite resent as much as he avoided her as much as possible. She was akin to a second mother to him, healing his injuries when he had not learned the spellwork, tending to him when he did start to learn spellwork and occasionally had a casting mishap. The reason why he tolerated her was that she had never, ever said anything to the Allmother or Allfather unless it was with his explicit permission – and that was something he secretly appreciated.

"Change, you silly little boy," Eir turned her sharp tongue on Jormungandr, "and do not waste my time."

The snake blinked once again, looking a bit cowed as much as a snake could, before quickly shifting to his human form. He kept himself prone on the Soul Forge as Eir held her hands up and started to manipulate the quantum field generators. "Speak your request." Her eyes were focused on the readings the Soul Forge was giving her, but her tone indicated that she was not fooled by his seemingly innocuous request for her to examine Jormungandr.

If it had been someone like Sif, he would have made a snide remark about how well he knew her, but Loki only acknowledged her request with a tilt of his head. "Who is Baldr?" he asked.

"To Sleipnir or to the House of Bor?" Eir countered and Loki blinked. That was not the answer he was expecting and saw the faint hint of a smile on the old Healer's lips. "You are not the first to ask such a question, Loki."

"So it is Sleipnir?" he countered and she sighed, nodding her head as if a little saddened.

"He is who he claims to be, and that disturbs me far greater than anything else," her fingers and hands paused in manipulating the field as she stared at a distant point beyond everything, "the poor boy...perhaps both lucky and unlucky to have survived for so long without a core and in such a state too."

"He has no other form than the one he has, unlike Jor or even Huugin and Munnin," she gestured absently to Jormungandr who had closed his eyes and was seemingly asleep on the Soul Forge. Loki suspected that he was probably enjoying the faint thrum of magicks the Forge produced, absorbing it as much has he could with skin-to-surface contact. The effect would last until he got off of the Soul Forge, but for now, he seemed to be content, or truly asleep.

"I would have thought he'd be a horse...an eight-legged one," he replied a bit dryly and heard the faint snort of amusement from Jormungandr. Eir only gave him a look to which he shrugged.

"The degradation of a magick-inclined person's mind with the the lack of a core can be minimized by keeping familiars in their animal form. Sleipnir is lucky that he still has his faculties intact. It seems that whomever has sustained him at least gave him bits of magick from time to time to minimize some of the degradation," she gave a very matronly sigh and shook her head, "if it truly is Baldr to whom he his bound to..."

Loki waited as she pinched her lips and stared at the readings, her eyes not quite reading it before she shook her head, "Foolish boy. No matter what deal Baldr offered him, why would he take it? He knew of the dark magick that had taken his adopted father." A faint sardonic smile appeared on her lips, "To answer your question, my Prince, Baldr was the third son of Bor Allfather. Not so much adopted as the Court might say, but rather a half-brother of then-Prince Odin and Crown Prince Loki."

"Better to be considered adopted than a bastard," it was something that Loki had been well aware of, even before he had found out he was a stolen Jotun babe.

The Court and Asgard as a society was rather peculiar about the adopted sons and daughters of its nobles and commoners. Both a bastard and an adopted child were shunned to a degree, but adoption was considered more...polite and somewhat more respectful than bastardization. Dalliances with those outside of marriage was not viewed with much disdain, but Norn-forbid a child was produced from such a union that gave the term bastard. Adoption by one parent into the family was the only way to erase such stigma and if either of the parents died without having the child adopted, then the child was considered a bastard through and through and shunned. One such former playmate in his and Thor's youth had been found and subsequently banished. Those whose parentage were unknown were often called bastards – hence some of the stigma attached to the members of his former coterie – after all with magick thrown into the mix, it was not spoken of in polite society; even if they had true parentage.

Eir only made a humming noise as she manipulated the Soul Forge some more, "Baldr was a proud son of Asgard and strove to banish the stigma one had for those adopted into families as bastards. Some nicknamed him the Champion of Reformation, derisive and undermining his attempts to change society and to change how people thought. But the Crown Prince loved him like his own and sought to help him."

"And Odin?"

"Alienated, I suppose, especially when both the Crown Prince and Baldr showed signs of magick," Eir looked thoughtful, "perhaps I see it in hindsight, but one could not really judge what has happened thousands of years previous until one has time to think and reflect on it." She made another quiet humming noise and adjusted the Soul Forge, "Odin loved Baldr in his own way, as did we all. He was kindhearted, a bit prone to dramatics, but he cared about the problems of even the smallest of those that served the House of Bor. He was...the people's prince, his sobriquet when people were kind."

"Sounds like Thor," Loki said, unable to keep the slight bitterness from his voice. To his surprise, Eir laughed lightly and shook her head.

"Perhaps, but not the one I would compare to," the Healer replied, but did not elaborate as she sobered, "but like all siblings, Crown Prince Loki and Prince Baldr were prone to fighting and so as one of their fights proceeded, no one thought anything of it. It was Sleipnir who alerted us to the fight happening on the Bifrost itself. I was only told by Frigga of what transpired, my studies keeping me here in the Healing Halls. The Crown Prince had apparently gone mad and ended up pushing Baldr's still breathing, but unconscious body off of the Bifrost and seemingly into the voids of the spaces in between."

"Then why did everyone presumed Baldr dead? There has been proof that things...existed, survived in the void," Loki swallowed back the sudden swooping dread that had filled him when he mentioned the void and the blackness, endless black-madness- He shuddered a little and ruthlessly suppressed the thought.

"Why do you think Heimdall's position was created posthaste? His first and only task was to search the realms for Baldr, for any sign of his body or even of him alive when Lady Hel reported he was not seen in her realm. It slowly evolved into the Guardianship that it is now, a protector of Asgard," Eir said as she absently chewed her lower lip, "But in the immediate aftermath, Odin proved he truly loved his younger brother by pursuing the Crown Prince, to bring him back to Asgard for justice. Freyr and his sister Freya were the first ones to fall to Crown Prince Loki's blades and magick. And it was only Sleipnir's supposed sacrifice that enabled Odin to slay his brother and end the madness that had consumed him."

Loki tilted his head a little – this was the second, if not the third time he had heard of the so-called 'madness' that had consumed Crown Prince Loki. "What madness was it that consumed the Crown Prince to kill Baldr in the first place?"

Eir only stared at him for a long moment before shaking her head gently, "I do not know, as I was not witness to the battle between the two, and even Frigga said she did not know what was spoken between the two before they reached them on the Bifrost. But what I do know is that the madness that was spoken of, was perhaps created by another, one of whom you are intimately familiar with, Loki." There was something in her gaze that made him feel distinctly uncomfortable all of the sudden; as if a nameless fear grew in him like the serpentine form of Jormungandr.

"He is not named Thanos the Mad Titan for naught," the Healer said quietly, "an epithet given to him by Odin after Bor Allfather sacrificed himself to banish him to the voids of Yggdrasil."

* * *

><p>Loki's first instinct was to check the Vaults to ensure that the Tesseract was still there, but he stopped himself from doing such a childish action. It would only prove that he was still afraid of Thanos' shadow when he was clearly imprisoned within; like a mewling little child jumping at shadows in the dark when he need not fear it. There was no tugging, no horrific thoughts that whispered like his own, no sharp shooting pain that signaled the reactivation of the geas he had made with Thanos in a desperate moment of utter despair and fury. Odin would have been notified if the Tesseract was missing or if Thanos had somehow, improbably, escaped its confinement. He was safe, he was in no danger-<p>

He breathed out quietly through his nose as he briefly pinched it in an effort to calm his nerves down. It made perfect sense, he reflected as he made his way to the private gardens to calm himself down some more. The Allfather's words that day on the Bifrost when Thanos had attacked Asgard in a bid to get the Infinity Gauntlet. Though he had been wracked with horrific pain, both physically and mentally, he had kept his wits about him – enough to both fool Thanos into thinking he had the Gauntlet, and also to have the coherency to attack him when his concentration was focused on said illusion. It explained a lot about Odin's words to Thanos and Thanos' taunts back to the Allfather.

His footsteps slowed as he approached the rotunda to the private gardens and heard the barest murmurs of voices from within. Norns help him if it was an amorous pair of servants or nobles that were strictly _forbidden_ from entering the royal gardens-

And stopped abruptly before cloaking himself quickly in the shadows as he saw a flash of golden hair, silvery-blue dress, and heard Queen Frigga's light laugh as she walked by with _Sleipnir_ of all people.

"...not get a chance to offer my heartfelt pride at what you had achieved," Sleipnir said, his voice lighter and much more friendlier than the night before. Loki was glad that he left Jormungandr with Eir back in the Healing Halls as he peered around the corner to see the two of them wander amongst a bed of flowers before sitting on the stonework bench. There was enough distance between Frigga and Sleipnir to indicate a sense of propriety and politeness, but the fact that he was talking with her in the _private_ gardens spoke volumes.

In their youth, and even occasionally now, the gardens were a place to whisper sweet nothings to whomever he or Thor fancied in that moment, and even also to occasionally bed them when lust took over. They were also used for a place of meditation or quiet contemplation as Loki had seen the Allfather occasionally wander the paths more than once before and after Court appearances. He had caught both Frigga and Odin occasionally spending time in the gardens and even he himself used it as a place to read in quiet when Thor would not stop bothering him and he did not like being holed up in his quarters.

Certainly bringing another person that was _not_ part of the royal household was rare and required at least some discretion – or in the case of Loki and hilariously enough, Thor when he was feeling a bit rebellious, no discretion at all. Certainly Frigga and Odin never did such a thing – at least even according to Court gossip, so _this_ certainly was a first. And a surprise to Loki.

Frigga had hinted that perhaps there had been an affection for Sleipnir long ago when she had approached him yesterday morning. Odin's expression certainly said something, but Loki wondered if it really was true. Considering how _gentle_ Sleipnir's voice was, maybe there was some truth to something that had happened between the Queen and Sleipnir before he had been presumed dead.

"The pride is accepted, but nothing has been achieved-"

"Frigga, er, Lady Frigga, you are Queen. A battlemage made Queen! Yes, Odin may have banished magick or at least forbidden it to be spoken of or shown, but he cannot forget that you were one before you were Queen!" Sleipnir sounded exuberant and Frigga only laughed lightly, patting him gently on the shoulder.

"Sleipnir, even now the people forget that I used to be one," Frigga sounded apologetic, "and my skills have only been extended to occasionally visiting the Healing Halls and helping Eir tend to her patients. Even then, it is very ceremonial."

"It's hypocritical, that is what it is," the other man replied crossly his initial exuberance all but gone, "surely the Court knows that Healers are mages-"

"It is something they have trained themselves to be blind to, Sleipnir," Frigga sounded infinitely patient as she tilted her head a little, "you have to realize what happened after...well, after your father and after you had supposedly died..."

"Odin got scared," there was a rough emotion that Loki could not identify in Sleipnir's voice, but it produced a soothing shushing sound from Frigga, "no, Frigga- Odin got scared. Odin was frightened by what he cannot, and still will not understand! Forbidding magick? Banishing it so that even our Vanir brethren practice on Vanaheim and are looked upon with disdain in Court-"

"Yes, Odin was frightened," Frigga sighed, "but what more did you expect? He lost his family, lost almost everyone he loved to magick because he was powerless to stop it."

There was an undignified, disbelieving snort from Sleipnir as he made a motion with a hand, raking it through his hair. It was unlike a mortal gesture that Loki saw Dr. Banner occasional use when frustrated, "But, why did you not convince him otherwise?"

"Because I was and still am his Queen," Frigga answered in a simple tone and Sleipnir laughed. It was a bitter sound that twisted something in Loki again like the few times he had heard such a sound or expression from the other man.

"Because the House of Odin, the former House of Bor, cannot fall. Asgard is ready to conquer once more," the auburn-red haired man shook his head, "maybe it is for the better that I do not have my core-"

"Do _not_ say that!" Frigga sounded horrified, "Sleipnir! Do not-"

"Do you love him?" Sleipnir suddenly asked and Loki peered out, still cloaked in the shadows, to see Frigga staring at him, eyes wide with surprise.

"I-"

"Never mind, I know the answer. My apologies for asking such an inappropriate question-"

The surprise in her eyes suddenly turned into something ugly and full of hurt as she shook her head, "You were proud of my achievement as Queen even though I am a former battlemage. Yet, you cannot stand my betrothal and marriage to Odin. Sleipnir, I still have great affection for you, but I cannot be the Frigga you once knew."

Something in the other man's expression broke as he reached over and placed a hand over her own folded ones, "I know, I know...I...I am not asking you to, I just... Everything has _changed_ since I was here last and I wanted at least someone who knew me to- To...just..."

"Odin still loves you like you were his own Sleipnir. The years as Allfather has taken a toll on him though-"

"Odin doesn't _trust_ me, not like before. I mean, I practically fell into the throne room, claiming to be from Midgard, rambling about Baldr being alive and he will not believe the words I say because if he did, he would have done _something_ by now. If I was to be a Sentinel, either to my father or to him since he took up the position of Allfather, should my word not be _trusted_ and acted upon with immediate haste?!"

"The last time Odin acted with haste, he lost you, lost his brothers, and lost his love Freya, and his best friend Freyr," Frigga replied quietly, "everything the Allfather does now has a purpose."

"Yeah," once again, Loki was struck at the jarring change into the mortal's language that came from Sleipnir's mouth, "exiling Thor to Midgard was the best thing that could happen. Frigga, it _accelerated_ Baldr's plans. He realized that Asgard was vulnerable and started his plans. The Baldr all of us knew from all those thousand years previous is _not_ the Baldr we thought we knew. It was he who had always wanted the throne of Asgard, coveted from the shadows as he pretended to be the supportive friendly brother with my father!"

"And if this is true, then like you had said, he is no threat to Asgard so long as he stays on Midgard-"

"He's a threat to _Thor_! To _your_ son!" Sleipnir shook his head, grimacing, "he is in possession of the Chitauri sceptre your other son wielded in his time on Midgard!"

"The sceptre-"

"Frigga, it-" Sleipnir abruptly stopped as he suddenly paled and from his vantage point, Loki saw a small drip of blood visible on his nose before his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed to the ground. Frigga barely caught him before shouting for the guards as they rushed in.

Loki flatted himself against his hiding place as they rushed past him and hurried to the Queen as she cast a spell over Sleipnir's prone form. Huugin's sudden caw was the only warning he got as the raven flew past him. The raven barely missed clipping his head with a wing as he landed on a branch to survey the scene with a tilted head. Not even a second later, the raven took off again, no doubt to report back to the Allfather what had happened as three of the guards lifted Sleipnir's limp body from the ground. His body was already glowing with a healing spell of sorts as the guards carried him into the rotunda. Frigga followed quickly behind as the other guards formed a protective barrier between her and any potential assassin that might have struck.

Even before they had all left, Loki cast a spell out towards the gardens, trying to sense if there was indeed any assassin that had been lying in wait, but felt nothing as he distantly heard the door close behind the last of the guards. His own lack of reaction when Sleipnir had collapsed surprised him, but for some odd reason he had somehow sensed that it was not an assassination attempt; but _how_ he had known, was a mystery. Instead, Loki uncloaked himself from the shadows and left the gardens, making his way to the Healing Halls. Leaving Jormungandr there had been a good thing after all.

* * *

><p>"There are signs of magickal exhaustion," Eir was murmuring quietly as Loki entered the Healing Halls, "but it seems that he had a spike in blood pressure that is most likely the cause of his collapse. Perhaps it was the abruptness of his travel through the shadows of the void, combined with feeling such intensity of magick that surrounds Asgard that led to this."<p>

"He will recover," Odin's words did not sound like a question, but nonetheless, Loki caught Eir nodding as he approached the Soul Forge where Jormungandr had apparently reverted back to his serpentine form and was sleeping, one coil placed over his head to filter out the lights of the Healing Halls.

"He will, Allfather," Eir confirmed, "unfortunately he has been deprived of magick from his core that the tattered remains hunger for it so it is the probable cause of what led to his collapse."

"Compounded with the healing spell I cast upon him-"

"I did not say that, my Queen-"

"No need to placate my ego, dear friend," Frigga gave a bracing smile, "I did not realize the extent of it-"

They were interrupted by the loud flapping of wings as Munnin landed on the Allfather's shoulder, unceremoniously forcing Huugin to jump to Gungir's point in order to not be flattened by his brother raven. A second later, Odin turned his head to Munnin who cawed softly and took off once more. Loki turned and nudged Jormungandr with a finger as he saw Huugin turn its head towards where he was. It was as if the raven knew that he was attempting to eavesdrop and judging by what he learned about the ravens in the past day or so – Huugin probably knew that he _was_ trying to eavesdrop without being obvious about it.

Jormungandr lifted another coil and tried to burrow under it to which annoyed Loki, but he dared not pick up the serpent on the pretense of letting him wake up on his own. It would have been easier to pick up Jormungandr and put him into one of his pockets and leave, but Loki was far more interested in what the Allfather, Allmother, and Eir were talking about than leaving the Healing Halls.

The sound of booted feet arriving with haste was preceded by the flap of Munnin's wings as he soared in and landed on the tip of Gungnir, ignoring the smug squawk of Huugin as he nestled back into his perch on the Allfather's shoulder.

"Is he-"

"He will be fine, Tyr," Eir said serenely, as the grey-haired old general looked at Sleipnir lying on one of the other Soul Forges in the room, "he will need rest and sleep, but he will be fine."

"...Good," the general sounded gruff, but Loki thought he heard a rough affection in his voice. As far as he knew, the General _hated_ mages with a passionate distaste and Loki had more often than not had put the idiotic general in place when his solutions to problems involved hitting something. This...this was something new and proved that Tyr must have been part of the coterie the Allfather had formed so long ago. Something in him still twisted with a furious hurt at the knowledge that _Odin_ had a coterie and did not even tell him about it when he had introduced his own hundreds of years ago. But he roughly pushed that emotion aside and watched with a discreet eye and ear as he continued to nudge Jormungandr to wakefulness.

"Heimdall has seen lightning on Vanaheim similar to Mjolnir. I wish you to investigate and report back," Odin said so quietly that Loki had to strain his senses and nearly cast a spell to enhance his hearing. He stopped short because he _knew_ it would be felt by Eir if not by the others in the room.

"But if _he _said he is the only one who can-"

"You will speak to no one of this," Odin interrupted, his voice still a harsh whisper and Loki realized with a quiet start that Odin had already _known_ what he was doing there – more than likely from Huugin on his shoulder or from the fact that his entrance was not as discreet as he thought it was.

He pinched his lips together, knowing that there was no more to be said around him as he gathered up Jormungandr, the snake waking with an abrupt hiss, before leaving. He felt Jormungandr slither and move from where he was gathered in his hand and glanced down to see the serpent give a very human-like shrug of, 'we tried.' Loki rolled his eyes and had to silently agree with the snake – he had tried. But at least he received an answer from what had been happening. Odin had a plan, even if he would not say more of it – and he was at least aware of what was happening. The next question was; to what purpose was Odin's plan? After all, Queen Frigga was right, everything Odin did had a purpose.

* * *

><p>It was just after the hour of the wolf when Loki felt <em>something<em> faint press against the barriers he had on the doors to his quarters. He quickly awakened as he wondered what would press against his barriers before getting out of his bed, drawing one of his daggers with him. The spell had not broken, which told him that whomever or whatever was pressing against it knew the barrier was there. If it had broken, he would have heard and felt the abrupt flash of incineration that would have destroyed the assassin or person there. There had been the occasional assassin who had sensed the barriers surrounding his suite of rooms and had tried to lure him out by other means.

Thor and the other Warriors knew not to barge into his room, his previous barriers only shocking them. These new ones had been created after Fenrir had been dealt with two years previous. Perhaps whomever was on the other side of the door was part of the danger he had sense from Sleipnir, but he did not know as he heard Jormungandr slither behind him on the stonework ground, using his innate abilities as a shapeshifter to grow; making himself larger in order to help subdue whomever was on the other side of the door.

Loki cast his senses out and felt a faint presence, almost as if it was not exactly there, on the other side before he opened the door, Jormungandr ready to strike-

"My Prince," he barely halted the path of his dagger as the solemn light eyes of Huugin in his human form greeted him, "I am to report to you that General Tyr is dead."


	6. Chapter 6

The Trickster: Ragnarok

by: Shadow Chaser

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own any characters from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. All characters belong to Marvel Entertainment, Marvel Comics, and Disney. I am not writing this story for profit, only for my own (twisted) amusement. I will try to return the characters unharmed, but some they might have a few scuff marks.

**Story:**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 6<em>

It occurred to him why he felt so _unsettled_ as he entered the Healing Halls. He knew that he had been expected at the emergency council session the Allfather was holding at the moment, but Loki somehow knew that was not the place to be. No, the place now was here in the Healing Halls, where the unknown quantity named Sleipnir resided after he had collapsed in the private gardens. Besides the sense of danger, the sense of something not quite right with the other man since he had arrived; Loki had a feeling that he was connected to the reason why General Tyr was dead.

Though he did not know what killed the General – the matter more than likely being discussed without his presence at the council session – it had to be connected to Sleipnir; it had to be. The coincidence was there and Loki was no stranger to coincidences nor of happenstance. A quick inquiry to one of the apprentices-in-training revealed where Sleipnir had been moved since his initial examination in the Soul Forge, and Loki rounded the corner, entering the small chamber that had been partitioned with curtains. The Healing Halls themselves had no doors nor quarters to house the wounded, all areas partitioned with curtains. Some of those curtains were laced with different types of spellwork, in cases of silence or even the muffle the pained cries of the dying. But the curtains were there because the Hall itself could easily be turned into a large triage center where mass spells could be cast across the room without interference or the like.

Sleipnir did not look surprised to see him as parted the curtain partitioning his area and entered; almost as if he was expecting it. That in of itself made Loki immediately go further on guard since Huugin had delivered the news of General Tyr's death.

"You come with questions, no doubt, my Prince," the red-headed man looked paler than normal, but his icy blue eyes were bright and focused. He was sitting up on his bed, the pillows behind him in a makeshift cushion, propping him up.

The statement was a bait; the reply to such a statement '_are you ready to provide answers_' or any variation thereof would have enabled Sleipnir to gain the upper hand. But Loki was too experienced to fall for such an amateurish trick. Instead, he ignored Sleipnir's words and leaned against a pillar near his recovery bed as he cast a ward around the surrounding area. At the same time he saw the other man flinch a little as if he had been slapped across the face before a thin smile appeared on his lips.

"You think I had something to do with General Tyr's death," Sleipnir said, "perhaps slipped a hidden blade somewhere, even poison in his food during the feast the night before." The thin smile became a light sarcastic laugh, "Do not worry, my Prince, I am not like Jormungandr. Poison is not my forte."

"No, it is not," Loki agreed and saw the minute frown that graced the other man's pale features. "And yet it is something I find curious indeed."

"Oh?"

"Of why my questions have been thus unanswered," Loki drew out a small modular from the folds of the spaces-in-between and started to absently play with it. He could feel Jormungandr, curled in one of his pockets, make a small move as if to go towards the magick he had in his hands, but then stilled as if remembering that he was supposed to stay in his pocket. He noted that though Sleipnir had flinched a little from the blatant feel of magicks; his icy blue eyes were riveted to the modular and was following the twists and turns of the icosohedron in his hands as he peeled and added additional skeins and weaves in it. "You know as well as I do that though you claimed to not convince me you meant no harm, but to explain what had made me scour the library in my research about you; it has yielded little to no information."

"I mean no harm to Asgard," Sleipnir reiterated a little sharply and Loki allowed himself a small smile.

"See, there it is," he pointed out and saw him frown, as if he was confused, "something perhaps my idiotic brother would have accepted or even the Allfather and Allmother fooled by sentimental emotions because of your miraculous survival and return. Oh yes, it would be easy except I see the truth behind it."

"My Prince, I do not know-"

"Only those who realize that they are culpable in guilt would deny harm to anything," Loki interrupted with a pointed look, "only those who have committed previous acts or would know of such previous acts would say something to ensure the trust of others. You _have_ harmed Asgard before."

Sleipnir's brow furrowed, making the angles on his narrow face sharper in the dim lighting relief of the Healing Halls. He opened his mouth to speak, but Loki held up a hand, stopping him.

"And I also find it curious that for all of my 'research' for which you seem not to have dissuaded me from, there is not one whit about you or of Sentinels. The term does not exist and though others have told me that it was to have started with you, none gave me the information of _why_ and _how_. Even more curious is the praises, or lack thereof sung of you." Loki looked at Sleipnir and saw that the other man's frown was even more pronounced as he finished, "So tell me Sleipnir, _what_ did you do to earn such lack of acknowledgment."

Sleipnir's icy blue eyes hardened as he glared at him. For a moment, Loki was struck at how eerie those eyes looked – so undeniably familiar and he dared not say terrifying – but it did stir something that he did not want to name as fear in him. He quickly brushed the feeling away and met the glare with a simple gaze of his own, his fingers still absently pulling and weaving in skeins to the containment modular he was creating. It was a pattern he had perfected through muscle memory.

The older man raised his chin to meet his look, "Has it occurred to you that there are some things that are not spoken of in polite company?" His glare sharpened before he gave him a thin-lipped smile, "But of course, you would think that all of Asgard would speak of tales and of glorious battles."

"Why not? It is such a culture for warriors," Loki returned the thin-lipped smile with a toothy one of his own, a part of him pleased that Sleipnir had answered him in such a fashion. "Your ignorance could be claimed by your years of exile on Midgard, but your words contradict what you have stated to the others."

"Oh?"

"You knew of Thor and I for one, know for a fact that the oaf would not keep his mouth shut regarding Asgardian culture. His foolish attempts to integrate his so-called friends, the Avengers, into our society would have provided you with a somewhat detailed knowledge of the current mentality here in Asgard. If you claimed to have been HYDRA, or behind it with Baldr for hundreds of years, then your knowledge of working behind the scenes and gathering information exceeds your capacity for subterfuge and the like," Loki was ruthless with his words and saw the other man shrink a little, attempting to maintain a calm stony face. "Your knowledge of Asgard is not as dated as you might have led others to believe."

"And you think me a threat?" Sleipnir asked, but Loki shook his head.

"No, quite the opposite, I think you an opportunity," he replied, "one of which would enable me to further my goals."

There was a sudden dangerous glint in the red-haired man's eyes as he pushed himself up further upright on his recovery bed, "I will _not_ be used in such a way. No matter what you goals are _my Prince_."

Loki only smiled a little, "And there you have revealed another aspect of yourself." Sleipnir pulled short and looked at him as he continued, "You have already been used in such a way that has left a distaste within you. You understand what it means to be used, and it has revealed a truth in the bland words you have spoken of since your arrival. You understand and you have fought against such use. At least you have confirmed something, that you are this Baldr's familiar."

The other man shook his head, "Why are you doing this? I have spoken no falsehoods-"

"But not the whole truth-"

"What have I done to earn your ire? To earn this questioning?" the other man finished plaintively before gesturing with a hand around the area, "what have I done to resort to your spellcasting and magick use? Surely-"

"You are not so naïve to think I would fall for such petty tricks. It would have wheedled sympathy out of Thor, but you forget who you are dealing with for all of your vaunted knowledge gathered on your years of exile on Midgard."

"A cruel, petty _Asgardian_ who thinks himself a _God_ to rule over others," Sleipnir suddenly spat, "one who casts suspicions upon others when there is none to be had. Paranoid, fear-mongering, who is the one who would start wars? Certainly not Thor, but Loki, the self-proclaimed Trickster God." He shook his head derisively, "You are _not_ your namesake. _He_ was a better man than you. Noble, self-sacrificing, everything you are not as it is not _me_ that has revealed his true colors, but rather yourself. Lady Sif was correct, you are jealous. I have done _nothing_ of the sort to make you think that way. It is your own insecurities that drive you. You think me to steal the affection of the Allfather away from you, to steal your place by his side, his left hand. You think me to steal away your adopted mother, Frigga. That she was once had loved me as she loves Odin.

"You see me as a threat to your attempts to woo the Court into thinking magick would be accepted, would come back because you seek to usurp the position of Crown Prince for your own gain. You seek the approval of Odin so much that anyone who thinks lesser of you is beneath your notice and time and anyone who dares have Odin's affection is a threat." Sleipnir suddenly sat forward, "Well, let me tell you Loki Laufeyson, you are no _son_ of Odin or of descent from the House of Bor."

Loki nearly crushed the modular he had finished in his hands; it stung, it really stung and it _hurt_ to hear such words. He did not know why it felt like that, after all, Sleipnir's opinion of him was merely an annoyance, but somehow, it felt like someone had stabbed him in the gut and left the blade in there. Instead, forced himself to focus on Sleipnir's words, "And another piece of the puzzle falls into place."

The icy blue-eyed man made a noise to protest before he cut him off again, "As much as I detest Thor, I know him well enough that while he would reveal my adoption into the House of Odin, but he would _never_ reveal who my birth father was. It is knowledge even he does not know about. Even if I were Jotun, the markings on my face would only be known to the Jotuns and their ruler. Tell me, Sleipnir, how is it that you have spent all these years avoiding Heimdall's gaze? Could it be perhaps you walked the shadows of Yggdrasil and spied upon the realms for your lord and master Baldr?

"You could have walked any time your _master_ gave you enough magick. Yet I am willing to wager you walked to the other realms to search out information for him. You perhaps walked to Asgard more than once and only now you have come here for sanctuary," he finished quietly, watching Sleipnir with careful eyes. Even though Eir had confirmed that his core was ripped out, Loki took no chances that the other man would attack or even retaliate in some manner. Sleipnir still exuded the _dangerous _air around him, even with his pale visage and seemingly weakened self. "That, is no coincidence."

That finally got the reaction Loki wanted out of Sleipnir as the other man dropped his head for a long moment, a quiet snort issuing from his nose as he shook his head. His hands curled and uncurled both underneath and above his blanket. He finally looked up and smiled mirthlessly, "It was worth a try, was it not? To at least go to a home I cannot call as such anymore, because it pulls at you, calls to you, forces you to do things, unspeakable ones and those you wish you could gouge your eyes out over; to deafen yourself to the screams and agony of pain that washes across you."

The older man's smile grew brittle, "I thought that perhaps you might have had the knowledge, but now I see that you are just a boy who plays with the magick arts he knows nothing of. To speak so flippantly and bear no consequence to your actions...you cannot help me and so I realize what I have to do."

Loki tensed as Sleipnir lifted his right hand towards his chest and held his palm flat against it. A hideously blackened orb of sorts crackling with unchecked skeins of magick that arced miniature chains of seemingly lightning-like bolts, was drawn out from the space in between where his palm hovered above his chest. Loki immediately recognized it for what it was, the swirl of magicks, the oily feeling that wormed deep within himself _resonating_ with what was drawn out. The orb was about the size of Sleipnir's palm as he finished drawing it out and held it in his hand, his icy blue eyes staring at it with an unreadable expression. A geas. Sleipnir had an unfulfilled geas within him judging by how the angry crackle of magicks swirled and lashed out as he held it in his hand.

"Who-," Loki demanded before he knew the answer, "Baldr."

"It was he who ripped my core out," Sleipnir replied softly, staring at the hideous black orb, "gave me this in return." He moved his hand back to his chest and the orb slowly disappeared, seemingly swallowed back up as it nestled within him once more. "So you see, I did tell the truth, from a certain point of view."

"And your contract?" Loki asked softly, mildly surprised that his own voice had not wavered in light of seeing someone else with such a hideous-looking contract. He could not help but stare at the place where Sleipnir's orb had once hovered. How could he have missed the obvious signs of a geas contract? He had been evasive with his answers, trying to find loopholes, pathways to avoid all but triggering the painful consequences of going against a geas contract. The other man had been clearly bleeding from the nose after trying to fight it to tell Frigga something in the gardens. Loki himself knew it very well as he had bled from stitched lips when he fought against the agony that ripped through his mind as Thanos mentally shredded it, shredded him to pieces. There had been signs since he had arrived in the throne room; he had just been too blind to see it, too startled like the others to focus on it.

Sleipnir only stared back at him before shaking his head slowly, "Of all the questions you come with, that...is the least of your worries, my Prince. You truly are just a boy, playing at magicks you cannot even begin to comprehend. I wonder what did _she_ see in you to start teaching you the forbidden arts of magisters.

"Do you not know?" the other man hissed as Loki suddenly found his wrist in a vise-like grip, the modular dropping from his fingers as it was twisted painfully against his back. He had not even _seen_ Sleipnir move, and for a brief moment thought it was an illusion that was still lying on the bed when it seemingly dissolved like an after image of sorts. "A geas is blood magick of a personalized sorts, contracts made and fulfilled with whom it was made with." His free hand drew an abrupt thin _electric black_ line into the air-

_IdontwanttodothisbutImustbecause_

"-and to open the shadows to the voids of Yggdrasil, one must cross one's self. Those who understand this, cross their own cores. But there is another way; to cross one's self, one can easily use a geas borrowing magicks from the other side of the contract, because they would be crossing the inner most self-"

_ImustbecauseImustbecauseImustbecause_

Loki found himself abruptly shoved through, his mind automatically seizing the barest threads that tied him to Jormungandr, a remnant of taking part of his core two years previous, to not lose him in the voids- For a second saw the yawning darkness- That there was nothing there- And just as suddenly emerged out the other side into a dimly lit stonework ground.

_ImustbecausebutImustImustImustbecausebecause_

"-I am truly sorry, my Prince, but you forced my hand," Sleipnir's whisper tickled the hairs on the back of his neck as the vise-like grip on his arm was loosened. Not even a second later, the feeling of the portal disappeared and Loki drew in a sharp breath. It had happened so fast that he had not even had time to react, his only instinct was to ensure that Jormungandr was not lost in the voids of Yggdrasil in the brief horrifying moment he had seen the darkness envelop them.

"The first sacrifice," a voice boomed from the shadows beyond the dim light and Loki turned in time to see a mass of jagged red-black shards flying towards him.

* * *

><p>It was as if starlight suddenly burst into supernova behind his eyes and for a second Heimdall thought he could <em>see<em>. The glorious beauty of the nine realms seemingly dazzled his all-seeing gaze as was the terrifying awesome power of the Convergeance-

He turned his gaze upon Midgard and saw the flashing cape of red and the familiar blue-silver armor of the Crown Prince, standing stoically next to a man with greying hair and a leonine feature that was unmistakably Baldr. He knew _exactly_ where they were on Midgard. Thor, for once, was not all movement and boisterousness and Heimdall seized upon the chance to call for one of the ravens – _Muunin! Huugin!_ - before he spotted the jagged red edges of crystalline knives glinting out of the corner of his eyes, through the pale wash of stars far beyond the realms-

It was headed straight for a familiar green-gold-black leather tunic and overcoat, but the second Prince was not his concern as he saw _who_ wielded the Aether itself. He had the light powdery-white skin of his species, the Dark Elves, and his eyes were a pale blue. He had been thought dead when Bor Odinson had razed Svartalfheim for its defiance against Asgardian rule thousands of years ago. The fact that Malekith was alive, wielding the Aether-

And just like starlight suddenly collapsing in on itself, the dazzle he _saw_ died and Heimdall was left wanting. He saw... He- He could not remember what he had seen-

The caw of one of the ravens alerted him to its arrival and he automatically held out a hand for it to land. Drawing his hand back, he saw Munnin with a curious look on his face, his bright black eyes blinking at him, avian head tilted to the side. Heimdall opened his mouth to send the message that he wanted to send-

Which was-

He looked out into starlight once more and thought he remembered seeing a flash of a red cape, Thor, but if there was any sign of Baldr, then he had not seen it yet. And the second Prince- Heimdall frowned...he remembered – or maybe he had seen amongst the stars – there had been red jagged crystalline _something_...but... It was important, but he suddenly found that his memories were muddled, like he could not part the murky starlight. He cast his gaze upon Asgard itself, but found no sign of the second Prince, not even in the Healing Halls where he had spotted him walking towards earlier. Sleipnir was still in his bed, recovering from whatever ailed him to collapse in the gardens.

He thought he had seen Loki... Heimdall frowned. The second Prince was prone to cloaking himself in the shadows and perhaps this was one of the times he deigned to do it – though for whatever reason why, he could not fathom.

As Munnin adjusted his perch on his arm, Heimdall could not help but stare at Sleipnir's sleeping form, a part of him knew that something was not right. Something shadowed his mind and the man he once knew and called a close friend was somehow responsible for it. He had said to the second Prince that Sleipnir _was_ a good man. Whether or not that remained to be seen was another question and the only thing Heimdall knew was that something had happened, something he _should_ have remembered and seen.

* * *

><p>Loki's instincts took over as he rolled forward on the stonework ground, bits of rubble and sharp pebbly rocks digging into him as he met the attack head on with his arm raised. The bluish hue of a shield formed just as the shards of jagged red-black crystalline thing hit. His arm shook from the impact before he dodged to the side to avoid a burst of the red-black shards of crystal. Loki only had the barest of moments to catch his breath before he dove forward, rolling into a crouch and threw two daggers towards the source. He heard them impact something that sounded hollow, but the red-black shards of crystal flew at him again and he lashed out with a wave of magick.<p>

He thought it would shatter the incoming attack, but instead, it seemingly consumed it and he found himself gritting his teeth against the onslaught, pulling his conjured shield tighter around him. He could feel bits of pieces cut into him, but most passed almost harmlessly before the attack relented. He looked up and saw a shadowy figure just beyond the dim edges of light, the bits and swirl of red-black spinning miniature whirlwinds in an outstretched hand.

Loki counted the fingers, five, which meant he was dealing with a humanoid of sorts instead of an alien or creature from beyond the Void. The Chitauri had six fingers, their overlord, the Other gripping his halberd with distinctive hands when he had met him after being pulled from the Void. Seeing that his opponent was faltering for a second, Loki did not hesitate and tried to gather the threads of magick to pull open a portal to return to Asgard when he _felt_ them slip out of his grasp. He reached out and grasped them again, only to find it seemingly dissolving before the shadowy figure at the edges of the dim light laughed.

The laugh chilled him, long, deep, but it was not the booming volcanic drag that was Thanos' mad laugh. This was a deep pitch that somehow sounded lunatic and he glared out into the darkness, conjuring another shield-

Only to slam forward into the ground, a sharp cry of pain emerging from his lips as he felt numerous needles stab into his back. He instinctively conjured a shield above him as the red-black crystalline shards pinged off of his shield. He let loose a quiet hiss of pain, feeling the distinctive slick wetness that he knew was blood dripping from his wounds. As he moved a little, he could feel the pull of torn skin and the chill of the air above it. But the fact that there was no deep-seeded pain meant that the wounds were mostly superficial, though he knew the attack had shredded his tunic and overcoat.

He could feel Jormungandr squirming in his pocket and with one hand grabbed at the pocket he had nestled in, stilling the serpent from doing anything else. Jormungandr must have gotten his silent message as the snake stopped trying to move to help and settled. He did not need for the snake to be caught up in this when he himself could not even see who in the Norns was attacking him in this dark, dank place.

"Impressive, son of Odin," the voice the laugh had belonged to spoke up quietly and Loki strained his ears as he looked to see more than one shadow hover at the edges of the dim light. There was definitely more than one here, but surely all of them did not have whatever had been attacking him. He could not make out who they were or from what realm they were, but he did note that they moved in near silence. That meant they either had sound-dampening armor or they were of a species that were light on their feet, made to either attack quickly and retreat quickly not for prolonged battles.

Asgardians were the jack of all trades and mages certain knew how to mask their own noises. Jotuns had heavy feet that enabled them to be front-line soldiers as did the fire demons of Muspelheim. There were only two realms he knew of whose inhabitants were light on their feet – the Light Elves of Alfheim and their counterparts the Dark Elves of Svartalfheim.

"Show yourself, Elf," he pushed himself off of the ground, suppressing the wince and pull of the cuts on his back and kept his shield up with a free hand. Loki dared not draw out his sceptre yet, not wanting to show them that he had an advantage. Again, he tried to grasp at the skeins and threads of Yggdrasil to transport himself out of wherever he had been left by Sleipnir, but like the last two times, the skeins seemingly dissolved from his fingers no matter how hard he gripped them. Loki knew he was visible to Heimdall, but if Heimdall had not opened a Bifrost connection to him to get him out of here either he had far more enemies surrounding him that would be a grave threat to Asgard or that he could not see him – or as he was beginning to suspect, both. The fact that he could not even grasp the skeins of Yggdrasil worried him – but also puzzled him. How in the world did Sleipnir open one up to _here_ in the first place?

"He did say you were clever," the voice returned from seemingly all around him as Loki looked warily around, the spell for several fireballs tingling at the tips of his fingers. "But not clever enough to know that your useless grasping to open a portal into the shadows of Yggdrasil will have no effect here. The final resting place of the Aether can only be physically found, not by means of magick or of teleportation technologies."

Loki set himself in a defensive posture, absently tugging at the wisp of the link that he had grasped onto while he had been flung into the portal by Sleipnir. Though he could not open a portal at the moment, he at least wanted to ensure that his escape was as swift as possible and that meant making sure Jormungandr's remnant core skeins were nearby instead of grasping onto it at the last minute. He felt the serpent respond by shifting in his pocket.

He tensed a little as he saw a lone figure finally step into the dim light. He had the pale powdery-white skin of his species, but instead of the familiar brown eyes that Loki had come to associate with the _current _Dark Elves of Svartalfheim, they were a piercing blue. There was also the shock of white hair and positively _ancient_ armor that the Elf wore. He had only seen armor like that in the various historical tomes he had occasionally read in Asgard's library. Either the Dark Elf had stole it from some clan's heirloom on Svartalfheim, or he really was as ancient as the tomes had described the first Svartalfheim Dark Elves as such. He was inclined to believe the latter only because of what the Dark Elf had said – the final resting place of the Aether.

Many had always thought that the relics in the Vaults of Asgard were just that, relics. Loki was inclined to think that Thor probably thought as the masses did, but he himself knew that the relics were more than that. They were the very weapons Asgard had collected and conquered the nine realms with. Formerly protected by the Destroyer who only answered to the one that wielded Gungnir, Loki had studied each of the relics during times of idleness as well as when he had been learning under Death. He knew of the weapons in the Vaults and what they were; especially of one particular one that Thanos sought two years previous in his attack on Asgard.

The Infinity Gauntlet.

The Gauntlet itself was a powerful weapon, capable of withstanding what it had been made to hold, but it was only that – a defensive weapon without the six gems, or stones, to augment it. The stones themselves had been said to be created at the beginning of the universe, of time immemorial when nothing existed and were the leftover bits of cosmic energy when the universe was done shaping itself. By themselves, the stones were capable of immense destruction as well as construction, each one representing an aspect of the universe. But since they had existed as one before the creation of the universe, there had been a gauntlet of sorts created so that whomever, whatever deity, being, that had created the universe would be able to use it to unmake the universe or mold it in their image.

The records in Asgard's library made no mention of when or how Asgard received the Infinity Gauntlet, but it had always existed in its Vaults. Loki had suspected it was also how the Aether had come into Asgard's possession, but unlike the Gauntlet, which had no offensive capabilities, the Aether had supposedly been kept elsewhere. There was no mention of the Aether being an Infinity Stone in any of the texts that Loki had read, but he had long had his suspicions as he knew there was no way that Asgard would have kept a gauntlet, of all things, in the Vault without some reason. He had long suspected it was perhaps in a pocket of sorts within the shadows of Yggdrasil, impossible to get to by any means, even with his knowledge of traveling the paths and keeping an eye on the skeins and weaves of the shadows as not to get lost and be forever lost to the void.

It was where he had found Thanos, falling from the void only to be pulled into another 'branch' so to speak; Thanos' exile or perhaps imprisonment from when he had fought Bor Allfather before Odin ascended to the throne. Who was to say the Aether was hidden in the same way? This Dark Elf had all but confirmed that the Aether was an Infinity Stone. But it still left the lingering question as to why he was left here by Sleipnir when he clearly intended to make sure he died, or at least did not interfere with whatever he planned for Asgard. He had a feeling that Sleipnir was counting on him to die here, considering the greeting he received.

Which meant that the older man _knew_ that this Dark Elf and his cohorts would be here, at this very exact moment. Sleipnir was somehow in communication with them, but he did not understand why. How did he know the exact moment-

Loki stiffened as he realized how Sleipnir had pulled it off. The man had practically hinted it the whole damn time and he had ignored all signs of it until it was right in front of him. Sleipnir clearly had no magick core, and the remnant magick he had used to transport himself to Asgard was borrowed as confirmed by Eir. But he had compensated by using the _geas_ that had bound him to Baldr, a magick that used the cores of those contracted to it. Geas were blood magick, forbidden magick – just like walking the shadows of Yggdrasil amongst other things. Sleipnir had borrowed the core and magicks of his master through the connections of both by being the virtue of his familiar and the geas and used it to open a portal in his attack on Loki.

But it still did not explain _how_ he was able to open a portal into where the Aether rested; unless the Dark Elf in front of him was lying. But there was an element of truth to what the Dark Elf was saying – for one thing, the ancient armor and general agelessness of his opponent in front of him. The other thing was that it was the resting place of the Aether – now in the hands of the Dark Elf; he had no reason to lie when he had every intention of killing him in a place where there was technically one way to escape.

Running to whatever ship the Dark Elves had arrived in to this place was not an option – even Loki knew that his spellcasting was limited and he did not know how many Dark Elves were beyond the dim lighted area he was in. He could cloak himself, but the more prudent thing was to escape, especially if this place was a maze or something. The tomes he had read hundreds of years ago during his studies mentioned nothing of where the Aether was housed or where any of the other Infinity Stones rested.

So then how did Sleipnir open a portal to a place where it was claimed that no portal could be opened? The only other power that could conceivably nullify the effect the Aether had was if there was another Infinity Stone-

Loki stilled as he realized that Sleipnir _did_ have access to another Infinity Stone. Through the geas he made with Baldr, this mysterious Baldr was supposedly in possession of the Chitauri sceptre. The sceptre which he and others had thought was powered by the Tesseract... When he had been given the weapon by the Other through Thanos, he had only been told that it was a weapon of great power and had the ability to bend the will of others to his own.

He had used it against Agent Barton, Dr. Selvig, and another SHIELD agent during his escape from the facility where the Tesseract had been held. It was not a Tesseract-based sceptre as they had all thought it was.

It was an Infinity Stone if Sleipnir, using Baldr's geas, had indicated by opening a portal into this place.

And Loki realized that he had known all along. It had been the barest whisper of his thoughts, easily pushed aside, yet kept coming back to him like an afterthought of sorts. He had even told Thor that he needed to find it to repay his debt to him to rescue his friends in London. His thoughts soured in annoyance as he looked at the Dark Elf. He knew what he had to do. He had one chance, judging by the curl of the blood-red crystalline shards that were swirling around the Dark Elf in front of him. Whomever he was, he must have taken the Aether into his very being, using his own life force to fuel its destructive power. To what end, Loki did not know, but he was not inclined to stick around and find out.

He had one chance, but was he willing to do what Sleipnir did and use the connection that had haunted him since he had fallen into the void of Yggdrasil three years ago? Dare he open the geas connection to Thanos?


	7. Chapter 7

The Trickster: Ragnarok

by: Shadow Chaser

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own any characters from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. All characters belong to Marvel Entertainment, Marvel Comics, and Disney. I am not writing this story for profit, only for my own (twisted) amusement. I will try to return the characters unharmed, but some they might have a few scuff marks.

**Story:**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 7<em>

The spell for fireballs still tingled at the tips of his fingers as he assessed the situation. Loki blamed it all on Thor's idiotic fault, that he did not bring the sceptre back quick enough like he had asked; that he was too busy saving his pitiful Avenger friends to do what was necessary. But most of all, Loki blamed Thor for _everything_ in the first place, but especially for Thor, somehow, getting _caught_ by Baldr who was _exiled_ to Midgard of all places. It was the highest order of foolishly conceived delusions of grandeur. Because, he knew would not be in this situation in the first place if Thor had just done as he asked and stopped fooling around with his mortal friends.

"Sadly, not clever enough, Trickster," the Dark Elf shook his head, having taken his defensive silence as an answer.

He saw the barest of movement out of the corner of his eye and leaped into action. He sent a handful of fireballs behind him and saw the light grow brighter. The fireballs impacted several similarly-armored individuals that had faceless masks on as the rest fired. Loki dodged; the bolts of energy from their weapons pinged off of his conjured shield as he threw himself behind a nearby pillar. He took a second to draw in a breath and pushed off of the pillar, throwing several conjured daggers towards the source of the fire, ducking underneath a lash of red-black Aether-powered crystalline attack from the leader of the Dark Elves.

His wounds pulled at him once more as he hid behind another pillar catching his breath for a moment before pushing off of it again. He only got to take a single step before the pillar behind him exploded from a barrage of energy fire and Aether and he tumbled to the ground, gritting his teeth against the scrapes across his tunic and overcoat, sending renewed pain across his back. He pushed it aside as he fired back, a spray of magick slamming into several advancing Dark Elves, sending them flying back with sprays of blood. Loki scrabbled across the ground and pulled himself behind a mound of rubble, his breath catching as he blindly groped for the wounds across his back. He pulled his hand away and stared at it briefly, noting the thin slickness of blood on his fingers. It was not as serious as he had initially thought, but it was still a worry considering he was bleeding.

He wiped his hand messily on what remained of a lapel on his overcoat and placed his other hand against the pocket Jormungandr was squirming about in, quieting the serpent. He did not need his help at the moment, not without having to keep an eye on the idiotic creature just in case he decided to charge into the fray.

"Come meet your death, Trickster Prince," the Dark Elf taunted from beyond the mound of rubble he was behind. Loki considered sending out an illusion of himself or a ghostly familiar, to confront the Aether-wielding Dark Elf, but decided against it. It was more prudent to conserve his magick. There was no other way out as he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, pushing past the pain, pushing past the sounds of boots advancing towards his position. Sleipnir expected him to die here, knew how to get here and Loki knew that the only way to return was either to find the Dark Elves' ship through an unknown amount of forces or to do what Sleipnir had done – draw upon the geas tethered magick of the Infinity Stone that housed Thanos – the Tesseract.

One leeched-off power of an Infinity Stone to open the portal out of the resting place of another. Though Thanos was trapped within the Tesseract, there was no way he could escape, that much was certain. Unlike a two-way door that transported beings and matter from end-to-end as was the purpose of the Tesseract, the Allfather had all but said that the Tesseract could not be open from inside to out nor from out to in unless one held it in their hand. But Loki knew that it did not mean that Thanos was literally sitting upon the source of power that was within the Tesseract – he just could not do anything with it while trapped inside. He had learned from Agent Barton while the agent had been under his control that two mortals by the name of Johann Schmidt and Dr. Armin Zola had harnessed the Tesseract's latent powers for their own seventy years prior to his arrival.

But Loki knew he himself could utilize that power. To escape the ambush Sleipnir had all but thrown him into. It was simple: open the geas connection he had with Thanos...

_...his vision spun as he felt the white-hot lash of pain searing across his consciousness. Stars and bright lights exploded in his vision as Thanos roared his anger and betrayal mentally across their bond – his frozen form cracking as he clawed his way out of his temporary icy prison._

_ ...the clawing pain that ripped each time he tried to fight against the Mad Titan's influence over his actions._

Loki forced open eyes he had not known he had briefly shut against the phantom lingering imagined pain, the memory of the pressure of the Mad Titan's mind suppressing his own. The cruelty, the hurt, the pain, the _torture_ that had been inflicted upon him, before he had arrived to conquer Midgard, and even after when Thanos had sought and found him. He suppressed a shudder of revulsion. That bond – he sneered at the term – was nothing to him. An annoyance he wanted to get rid of; an annoyance that Asgard's libraries held no answers.

But it would do, for now.

There was no other way.

Loki let loose a quiet almost-shuddering breath as he squared his shoulders and drew upon the latent magicks from within. A quick check of the thread-bare ghost of a wisp that tied him to Jormungandr ensured that the serpent was ready as he heard more than saw the attack coming for him.

He could almost imagine the red-blacck crystalline Aether reaching out like a hand beyond the stars, trying to snatch him in its sharp, jagged grasp as he spun from his cover, his fingers drawing upon the spaces-in-between and pulled out his glaive. The deep blue stone embedded in its crown burst forth with the howl of a thousand blizzards; the power taken from the Casket of Ancient Winters spraying forth its glacial power. He spun in a half circle, freezing several Dark Elves that had been ready to fire at him, catch some of the energy bolts mid-air with the icy power of the glaive, dropping them like icicles on the ground.

At the same time, Loki reached deep within, the writhing, _nauseatingly ugly_ feel of the geas making him gag and choke as he let it fill him, drawing deep within its nefarious source, diving deeper and deeper into its bottomless all-consuming power, a reflection of his core-

And plunged past the seemingly infinitely-hungry power of _Thanos_ as he felt his heavy weight settle around him, to where he could feel the source of the Tesseract, the power that transported matter and material from one place to another-

He ripped a dark _electric blue-black_ line down the air-

_SoafraidsoafraidfearfearcannotfearbutIamsoscared_

Loki plunged through the shadows of the void just as the Aether, or was it the Dark Elf, howled behind him, sending forth the shards of black-red crystalline chasing after him. He could feel himself choking on bile that surged up within him, the sickness that was consuming him- He was falling again – _No! _- falling into the nothingness-

_OhNornswhathaveIdoneIdonotwantthis_

Loki stumbled and found himself in the faint light of the Vaults of Asgard as he turned and hastily closed the portal into the shadows he had forcibly ripped open. Not even a second later, silence reigned in the Vaults save for a hitching sound. He belatedly realized that he that was making the sound and he closed his eyes, suppressing the bile that had risen up to his throat and swallowed the sour taste back down.

He could feel the coolness of the Vaults and the faint traces of runes embedded deep within the stonework as his hands shook to support him. He forced himself to breathe in and out, to calm himself down and slowly withdrew the contact he had made with the geas, burying it under layers and layers of internal spellwork, trying to purge his mind of how it had _felt_. He could feel Jormungandr shifting and falling out of his pocket and not even a second later, a spindly hand tingling with the remnant traces of what had once been healing magick, but was now more the leftover natural shapeshifting abilities.

"I did not give you permission to change," he growled out quietly, absently wiping away the small amount of spittle he had not known he had dry heaved in the moments of his arrival.

"But Loki you're-"

"I did _not_ give you permission to change," annoyance flashed across him as he felt the hand withdraw. Silence reigned for a second before he felt something slithering across his hand as Jormungandr returned to his serpentine form. The snake stared up at him from the stonework ground. Much to Loki's growing annoyance, the snake did not look chastised, but rather was staring at him with as much of a narrow-eyed look as a serpent could possibly give at him.

He ignored the look and pushed himself off of the ground, closing his eyes at the brief lingering dizziness of using the geas in such a manner and also opening the portal. His brief fight, though mostly defensive, had drained him of a little of his magick, but the sheer amount of power he had drawn from the geas and Tesseract to open a portal out of the place had nearly overwhelmed him. Loki grabbed at the nearest pedestal for support as he opened his eyes to see that he had opened a portal right next to where the Tesseract was held. He took a few steps to the side, distancing himself from the innocent looking blue cuboid that was Thanos' prison.

A series of loud hisses from Jormungandr made him glance down to see the serpent slithering towards him, growing a little larger, looking more cobra-like than the coloration of a corn snake, before puffing out his hood in an attempt to get his point across. He ignored whatever Jormungandr was trying to imply and plucked him off from the ground, shoving him back into his pocket where the snake immediately returned to its tinier form. His back felt like it was on fire with the sharp staccatos of pain. The wounds he had received burned, but he quickly cast a glamour over it as he headed towards the doors. Sleipnir had woefully underestimated him.

However, he had only taken several steps outside of the Vaults when his vision suddenly whited out with a terrifying dizziness. He had only had a moment to realize that he had underestimated how much magick he had used along with how injured he was, before the ground rushed up to meet him and he collapsed, unconscious.

* * *

><p>In his haste to leave the Vaults, Loki missed seeing the brief flashing change of color from the Tesseract in the aftermath of what had happened.<p>

He had _felt_ the touch, had reveled in the fact that the whelp of a Jotun had actually fully _opened_ the link between them. All of the nudges, all of the subtle hints he had sent along to further his goals since his imprisonment had come to this.

And Thanos, the Mad Titan, smiled.

It was nearly time.

He would have his revenge against the House of Odin. He would bring the Trickster that had betrayed him, to his knees and make him beg for death. After all, there was nothing sweeter than to satisfy his love.

* * *

><p>Hearing always seemed to be the first thing that returned, and he registered the soft wisps of cloth, gentle tapping of feet in the distance. The next thing was the soft scent of healing, of peacefulness. As much as Loki suddenly yearned for it, he pushed past it, his mind registering the lack of beeping machinery that he had associated with the last time- His mind raced to full consciousness as he opened his eyes, staring up at the familiar rose-red hues of the Healing Halls and the gentle smell of soothing fragrances. The last time he had woken up from being unconscious was when Fenrir had viciously attacked him, nearly tearing off his arm. His brief stint of magickal-exhaustion after killing Fenrir did not count as he just needed sleep.<p>

Though he could feel the blankets that covered him, he also felt the crisp, clean tunics he was wearing. But the lack of pain that had seared across his back meant that Eir or whomever had been tasked to heal him had done their job. He shifted a bit and paused as he heard the slight grumbling hissing sound close to his left ear and turned his head. Jormungandr was curled up next to his pillow, seemingly sleeping with a coil draped over his head.

"It was Jormungandr who alerted us to your presence, Loki," he looked beyond Jormungandr to see Frigga sitting by his bedside, a tired smile on her lightly lined face. She reached out with a hand and gently pulled a strand of hair out of his face. Loki allowed her to do so but drew away at her attempt to stroke his face in motherly affection.

"He is a fool," he said, not surprised at how hoarse his voice was. He swallowed several times, clearing his throat as Frigga withdrew her hand. He expected her to look hurt, much like Thor always did whenever he tried to do something sentimental and brotherly, but she surprised him by nodding her acceptance.

"Then a good fool," she replied, "to have sent for help."

"I am _not_ making him my familiar," he could easily see where she was attempting to lead the conversation.

"Then will you allow the madness of an empty core to eventually consume him?" Frigga countered with an arched look, "do not think me unused to the ways of magick, my son. I may not be as talented as you nor gifted as Eir or even Archmage Erikur, but I once was a battlemage of some renown. I know of the basics you too have learned. Jormungandr will either need to become a familiar or have his core replaced."

"Death would have been more merciful for him," he shot back, but Frigga only shook her head.

"No, my dear boy, spared because-"

"Everything Odin does is for a purpose?" he echoed her words spoken to him four years ago when Odin had fallen into the Odinsleep during Thor's exile. Frigga only smiled faintly, the edges tinged with a bit of sarcasm. "Then tell me this, _mother_," he continued, "what purpose does Odin have for keeping Sleipnir alive? It was he who did this to me." He gestured towards his back, jostling the pillow and out of the corner of his eye saw Jormungandr blink awake before trying to curl up under another coil to fall back asleep.

"Sleipnir lead the search parties for you, Loki," Frigga shook her head again, "you were gone from Heimdall's gaze for the last four days-"

"What," he interrupted flatly, stunned. It had only felt like _minutes_ when he had been fighting the Dark Elves. He pushed himself up, the blankets dropping from his shoulders and pooling at his waist as he felt the tug of still-healing wounds. Sleipnir had _four_ days to continue whatever plans he had in place and Loki had spent at the very least, another day in this Nornforsaken Healing Hall-

"Loki!"

He ignored Frigga's exclamation as he threw the blankets off of himself and stood up, wobbling slightly on unsteady legs. He grabbed the clean clothes that had been left near his bed and changed hastily into them. He could still feel the tug of magick-induced exhaustion biting at the edges of his consciousness. Had there been some kind of time dilatation or spellwork involved where the Aether had last rested? If so, it certainly explained why he had completely underestimated the drain upon his magicks. If he had literally fought for four days straight with no break, even he would have drained his reserves and fallen unconscious. The fact that he had been gone for four days... Loki did not want to think about what could have happened in the four days – what kind of damage Sleipnir could have done in his absence.

"Where is Sleipnir," he demanded as he fitted a new overcoat and absently grabbed Jormungandr from where he had been resting, putting the snake back into his pocket. The serpent hissed in sleepy protest moving a bit in his pocket before stilling.

"Sent to Vanaheim after your return yesterday. He has taken over the search for Tyr's murderer," Frigga replied reaching out and grasped the edges of his sleeve, "Loki, you are not well enough-"

"I am well enough, thank you very much," he shot back, but did not rip his sleeve out of her grasp, his mind racing with the possibilities. Something about her words made him uneasy and it was not that Sleipnir had traveled the Bifrost to Vanaheim...or it was... The Bifrost. "How can Sleipnir travel by the Bifrost when he cannot stand magick?" he had not missed the flinches and looks of a pained longing each time he had spelled or used magick near the auburn-haired man.

"He has endured the discomfort," Frigga replied softly and Loki turned to stare down at her to see something almost like sad affection flit across her features. Never before had he ever seen such a look on her face, even when he had been ordered to stay on Asgard in an effort to keep Thanos from outright controlling him.

"He is not who he claims to be," Loki did not like the look, tugging at something deep within him that screamed to be let out, to tell the Queen, tell the woman that had raised him like a mother, that she was being duped. "Do you know who did this to me?" he gestured to his now-healed back as he looked at her, "your beloved Sleipnir. He can use the magick he claims not to have." He wanted to tell her that Sleipnir had a geas with Baldr, that he was _using_ the geas as a source of magick, but the words that easily came to his lips suddenly faltered and Loki found that he could not speak those words. It felt _wrong_. It was wrong. The words he could easily conjure up and speak somehow felt thick and unused in his mouth. It tasted like ash and Loki reeled at it.

It hit him a second later what was wrong. Sleipnir. Or more accurately, Sleipnir using the amplified power of Baldr wielding the Chitauri sceptre. It had the ability to control the minds of others, to bend them to the will of whomever wielded the sceptre. It was an Infinity Stone, more specifically it was the Mind Gem. Sleipnir was somehow, inexplicably, amplifying its power across the whole of Asgard. He knew what the sceptre did, what the stone of power did. Besides bending and dominating the minds of those it came in contact with, it had a latent power that twisted the thoughts of others; clouding their senses, blinding them to truths that could easily be seen without its influence.

When Agent Barton had requested his help with acquiring the iridium three years previous, he had obliged and allowed Director Fury and the Avengers to capture him. A subtle intricate plan knowing that they would study the sceptre. What the Avengers had not known then was how it twisted their thoughts, turning them against one another – something he had long counted on to slowly bring out the monster that was within Dr. Banner. He had plucked all of the relevant knowledge from Agent Barton and Dr. Selvig's mind to create his plan.

Sleipnir was somehow doing the same to Frigga, to Eir, perhaps even to Odin and Heimdall considering their lack of action in light of recent events. He looked back down at Frigga and saw her in a new light; she would not believe him even if he said the words now – the words that still tasted like ash in his mouth but was slowly being banished now that he realized what was truly happening. It somehow broke like the sun through the clouds of his mind, a sharp painful mental snap that gave him clarity – and in a twisted way, realized that for all of the man's babblings, half-truths, and falsehoods, Sleipnir had told the truth; that he was a familiar to Baldr and that he had a geas contract with the man.

Because there was no other way for him to become such a magick beacon, a power source if you will, for Baldr. Like the ghostly familiars each mage was able to learn and summon, they represented the caster themselves, carrying messages across battlefields and realms that only another mage who spelled it could read and relay. Erikur and the other Healers that had been sent out three years ago to scout and relay advance warning for Thanos' Chitauri invasion of the realms had used the ghostly familiars to such effect. The Archmage's now deceased sister had used one that clearly showed the state of the caster – her bligesnipe snuffling and braying as it circled and slowly died at the same time she had.

A living familiar, was the same concept – except their magick core was replaced by that of their master, siphoning and borrowing the magick to sustain their lifeforce. Those that lost their core or were not bound were as Frigga and others had already said, slowly degrading to the point where madness consumed them. Baldr was using Sleipnir as a living beacon to amplify the usage of the Chitauri sceptre – _his_ rightful sceptre.

Perhaps there had been merit for Sleipnir to escape, but even now Loki doubted his words. Why would Sleipnir have escaped Midgard, only to send him through a portal of the void of Yggdrasil to where the Aether rested when he could have gone himself- Another thought occurred to him as he fought back a sudden wave of dizziness, his body still screaming for rest. Besides intending for him to die by the hand of the Dark Elf that wielded the thing, there had been many Dark Elves there.

An army of them in fact. All ready for an invasion.

Loki had no doubts that Asgard was the target. Sleipnir had expected him to die with the knowledge that an army, wielding the incredible power of the Aether, was ready to march on Asgard. Perhaps Sleipnir intended to open a portal into the resting place of the Aether to transport them. But then how did killing General Tyr factor into it unless...

"It's the invasion point," he murmured mostly to himself.

"...Loki?" Frigga sounded confused and he glanced at her, the pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place. As much as he wanted to rail against her, to yell at her that it was her fault, it was the Allfather's fault for trusting Sleipnir, for wanting to believe that people were like they had been, he found that he could not. Instead, he ignored her call and ripped a thin blue line into the air.

_IwillkillhimIwillstophimhemustbestopped_

"Loki! You have not recovered-" he ignored her as she reached out to stop him and stepped through the portal he had created, his heart leaping up into his throat at the sudden blackness and dizziness that washed over him-

_HemustbestoppedhemustbestoppedAsgardcannotfall_

-and stepped out into the golden hues of the Observatory. Just as quickly, he sealed whispering void, and turned to hear the remnant whine of the Observatory powering down. He frowned as he saw that Sleipnir had returned from Vanaheim, the Warriors Three and Lady Sif having accompanied him. That certainly explained why his thoughts had been muddled for a few seconds, unable to speak what he wanted to speak. Sleipnir's influence with the Mind Gem had grown in the days he had been missing.

"Loki, what-"

"At what point did you think I would not have returned, Sleipnir?" he ignored Sif's exclamation and stalked forward, summoning the Casket of Ancient Winters sceptre from the spaces-in-between. "That I would not be able to counter the trap you had sent me into."

"I do not-"

"_Don't_ mock me," he growled out, baring his teeth as he raised his weapon up, daring Sleipnir to strike with the speed he had done so in the Healing Halls. "You _meant_ to let the Dark Elves kill me there, with the Aether."

"Loki..." Sif suddenly stepped in front of Sleipnir, her weapon drawn and pointed at him and he stopped, staring at her in disbelief.

"Sif, what-"

"You are clearly not well-"

"_What?!_" he could not believe what he was hearing from her and saw out of the corner of his eye, the rest of the Warriors Three also approaching him with cautious steps, their weapons held aloft, but not quite pointed at him. Beyond them, he saw Heimdall staring at them, his golden-eyed gaze unreadable. He heard the distant musical tinkle of several horses approaching across the Bridge itself.

"You were found just outside the Vaults, Loki. We think that Thanos might have used the geas he had with you to influence your thoughts again-"

Loki's jaw dropped with incredulity, a bubbly hysterical _laugh_ emerging from his lips at what he was hearing. He saw Sif twitch a little at his laugh and wiped at his eyes. "You are so very deluded, Sif," he could not believe what he was hearing.

It was so obvious at what had happened. They clearly believed that Thanos had once again, tried that little trick of his, of influencing him through his waking dreams to try to free him. He had no doubts as to who _spun_ such an incredible tale. It certainly explained the way Frigga was acting just moments before by his bedside. She certainly believed him to be influenced and subtly controlled by Thanos and thus was trying to help him by keeping an eye on him like she had three years ago. He glared at Sleipnir beyond Sif's shoulder.

"You think you could outwit me, you poor deluded fool," he snarled, his anger rising in him. "You think you could do such a thing and get away with it?!" Clearly, Sleipnir's sphere of influence had spread to Sif and the others if they believed such an outlandish tale. The only problem was, that Sleipnir had spread a modicum of truth in that tale – that he _had_ once been under Thanos' influence by this very method and Loki had been too blind to _not_ see it until it was too late. The mewling bastard did not have to spread a complete lie, only bend a truth and put the kernel of doubt in the others' minds.

He took another step forward, Sif matching his to close the gap in between the crown of his spear to where she stood in front of Sleipnir. Her dark eyes flashed a pleading warning – one he could clearly see for him to somehow remember that they knew each other, even if they were not friends. It might have worked – had he actually been under Thanos' influence, he supposed, but right now, he was beyond furious.

"Get out of my way," he said quietly, leveling her with a look of pure coldness. "Sleipnir is the one who has deluded you all with his honeyed words. He and this Baldr have been planning an invasion of Asgard with the Dark Elves who have found the Aether."

"The Aether has been untouched even with the Convergence," Odin's voice was but a whisper, but it seemingly echoed in the cavernous space that was the Observatory. "Loki, lower your weapon. Sleipnir is not at fault."

"Can Heimdall see into the resting place of the Aether?" he could practically hear the unspoken words that Odin also thought that it was Thanos influencing his thoughts, using the geas to subtly control him – to somehow use the knowledge of the Aether existence against the Tesseract.

"I do," Heimdall's voice boomed from his right where Odin stood near him, "I see untouched shadows, rubble littering the area-"

Loki snarled wordlessly and made to move towards Sleipnir again when he felt Gungnir's point being leveled straight at him. He laughed lightly, taking a step back. "After all this time, you finally reveal your true colors, Allfather," he said softly, addressing Odin even as he kept his eyes steadily on Sleipnir who only stared back, his expression placid, "all of the broken promises, empty words you have spoken."

"To stop you from making a grave mistake," Odin replied, "and because I know my son is fighting from within, to rebel against your heavy hand. I have told you this once, end it, between you and I, my sons need not be involved."

"Thanos does not control me," Loki tilted his chin up. The mysterious Dark Elf had already moved his troops if what Heimdall just described seeing was true. He had no doubts that Vanaheim was the focus point of the invasion – getting rid of a majority of the mages there before launching an attack on Asgard itself. General Tyr had been sent to investigate and had paid for it with his life; Sleipnir's first mistake in his convoluted plan. If he had kept Tyr alive, then his plan would have been flawless.

He knew what he had to do now. To make all of them see. He lowered his weapon, letting it disappear into the spaces-in-between. As predicted, the others sheathed their weapons a second later. They were all complacent idiots, Odin included. He gave Sif and Sleipnir a faint smile as he heard the Einhenjar that had accompanied Odin to the Observatory approach, the clatter of their armor choing in the cavernous Observatory. He could feel Heimdall's golden-eyed gaze still boring into him, the soft caw of both Huugin and Munnin somewhere in the Observatory. There was no other way, not if Asgard was to survive the incoming invasion. Sleipnir, and by default Baldr, would not have _his_ rightful throne.

He needed to find Baldr.

To do that, he needed to find Thor.

As the Einhenjar approached to escort him back into the Healing Halls or even the prisons considering what everyone else thought of him, he suddenly lashed out. He threw his hands to the side, fingers splayed as a wave of destructive magick burst forth in a circle and sent the Einhenjar tumbling to the ground. The others drew their weapons in reaction to his sudden attack, but Loki knew that they would be too late. He ripped open the thin blue line of the shadowed roots of Yggdrasil-

_AsgardwillnotfallAsgardwillnotfallAsgardwillnotfall_

Just before he stepped through, he met Sleipnir's icy blue eyed gaze with his own, vowing that the traitor would not get away with what he had done. He stepped through, the green-blue-white hues of Midgard rushing at him-

-and landed with a jerk onto the concrete brown-burnished gold coloration of Tony Stark's gaudy tower.

"Loki," three pairs of eyes, one of whom was the familiar blues of the soldier that was codenamed Captain America, met his own as he sneered at them.

_AsgardwillnotfallThormustbefoundAsgardwillnotfallBaldrmustbefound_

"Where is Thor?" he demanded, his voice hard and angry.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

Hooray, we've caught up to the Epilogue of "Frozen in Time!"


	8. Chapter 8

The Trickster: Ragnarok

by: Shadow Chaser

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own any characters from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. All characters belong to Marvel Entertainment, Marvel Comics, and Disney. I am not writing this story for profit, only for my own (twisted) amusement. I will try to return the characters unharmed, but some they might have a few scuff marks.

**Story:**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 8<em>

He did not recognize the dark-skinned man that stood next to Captain America, having apparently been playing chess, a mortal version similar to tafl. But Loki did note that he had a posture and build similar to the Captain; attentive, unconsciously set in a defensive posture almost as if he could push Rogers behind him to protect him. Loki found that thought laughable, as he focused his gaze on the other man that had taken a step forward. It was apparent that he had been sitting in the corner of the open-aired area he had found himself in. He had risen with the languid grace of a predator that reminded Loki greatly of Fenrir. The metal arm affixed to his body radiated traces of magick, which puzzled him. The next thing he noted was that all three sported bandages and healing cuts and bruises. The dark-skinned man sported a lot less than Rogers and the mysterious metal-armed man, but all of them looked like they had just recently come from battle.

"Loki-" Rogers started, but he cut him off with a glare.

"Where is Thor," he repeated reaching behind him and noting to his faint amusement that both the metal-armed man and the other soldier had stiffened at his movement. He saw the barest glint of metal flying towards him and caught it with an raised hand while simultaneously drew close the whispers of the portal that he had ripped open to travel from Asgard to Midgard. Another quick twist of magick cloaked him from Heimdall's gaze lest he be quickly transported back to Asgard by Bifrost.

"Bucky!" Rogers took a step towards the metal-armed man who had thrown the knife at him before turning back and holding up his other hand, "Loki, Bucky didn't mean to do that-"

Loki only rolled his eyes at the fact that Rogers thought that a little knife thrown at him was going to set him off. He threw it back at the metal-armed man where it embedded itself into the concrete right near his feet. "Spare me your trivialities. Where is Thor," he repeated, his patience thinning with the lack of an immediate answer.

"We're searching for him-"

His thinning patience slid right into annoyance. They had a _week_ since Thor had disappeared from Heimdall's gaze. A week since the Guardian had reported that lightning had struck as if there had been a battle, followed by a flash of blue and then no more. Loki had little doubt that Baldr had the Chitauri sceptre. He grudgingly admitted to himself that Sleipnir had not outright lied – which would have made it easier for him to detect, being the master liesmith and all – but had shaded the truth until it had been too late to see what his true goal was. He did not need this delay and took a step forward towards Rogers. If he continued on this banal vein, then he would demand answers out of him.

"Wait, wait, Loki-"

He was mildly surprised to see the Captain step towards him, matching his own single-step advancement, instead of stepping back. However, he also caught the fact that the Captain had held a hand back towards the metal-armed man he called 'Bucky.' It seemed more like Rogers did not want him to make any more sudden moves than worried about his own safety.

"Loki, listen, we've been running facial recognition worldwide since we've been at Karpov's, er, Baldr's base-"

"Where is this base?" Loki cut in, tempted to throw up several magick barriers to keep Rogers' other two companions from doing anything judging by the looks he was getting from both. It secretly amused him that they thought of him as such a threat while he thought of them as mere annoyances towards his goal of finding Baldr. He still could not fathom why Thor thought of them as worthy companions; except maybe the green giant Banner who turned in the Hulk, and perhaps Agent Romanov if her skills at wordplay had improved since he had last talked with her. The others, they hated him and he did not care for their feelings towards him.

"A couple of hours due southeast of Strasbourg, Germany in the Alps-"

Loki did not bother to hear the rest as he drew another thin blue line into the shadows of Yggdrasil-

_IwillfindhimIwillfindthemIwillstopthismadness_

"Wait, you shouldn't just rush-"

He only shot Captain Rogers a look before plunging through the darkened threads again, shuddering a little as he thought he lost himself in the inky blackness of nothing- And landed with another jerk into the sidewalk and streets of Stuttgart, Germany in front of the opera house. Shouts and screams of surprise assaulted his ears, but he paid them no attention as he turned and sealed the portal once more. He drew in a breath, twitching slightly at the small pull he recognized as the beginnings of exhaustion, having pulled at the skeins and weaves of Yggdrasil thrice in quick succession; from the Healing Halls to the Observatory, to Midgard, and now here.

He felt Jormungandr stir where he had been nestled into his pocket since his journey from the Healing Halls. He had almost forgotten about him and realized he had absently grasped onto the faint remnants of threads that had once been his core without a second thought – pulling him through the portals with him. No wonder he was a little exhausted, having traveled with someone else through the shadows of Yggdrasil was always precarious and deadly. His only Norn-saving grace was that as an animal form and one without a core, Jormungandr was far easier to transport than Sif had been the last time he had traveled.

"Stay," he whispered harshly towards the pocket the serpent was nestled in. He had no doubts that Jormungandr was reacting to the magick he was expending to keep himself cloaked in shadow – and by definition, also keeping Jormungandr cloaked in shadow since he was in his pocket. The serpent quieted once more and Loki looked around, eyes narrowed at how many people were starting to crowd around, their mobile phones raised – no doubt to take pictures of him.

He flicked his hand out, ripping the phones and electronic devices from their finger tips and all of them screamed, most running away while others stood in blank shock. Loki used the magick he had and crushed the electronic devices in a staccato of pops, sparking hisses, and oddly warbled beeps. He glanced to his left as he heard the distant familiar sirens of Stuttgart's police already responding to his appearance and shook his head. The Midgardians were still predictable after all these years. No doubt that once they discovered the consequences of the geas contract he had made with Director Fury three years previous was still in effect, they would think twice before coming after him with their pathetic sense of justice.

There was hardly any worry, as he knew he would be finished long before the sirens reached him. He closed his eyes, and cast his senses out towards the south and west of Stuttgart and beyond. In a way it was similar to when he had used it to find any trace of the Chitauri on Asgard when they had been cloaked from Heimdall's eyes. Strasbourg was unfamiliar to Loki, but Rogers had said Germany and so the only place he was familiar with that was in Germany was Stuttgart. He was familiar from a descriptive point of view with the mountain range the mortals called the Alps. Dr. Selvig had described it to him with its geological components and materials when he had been building the containment field for the Tesseract. So he cast his senses out towards the mountain range of the Alps, south, west, and east of the city... His mind brushed past the numerous little blooms of magick. A small part of him was curious as to the variety he felt, some fluid like the river, others static, stagnant, long forgotten wards or attempts at magick that felt ancient. There were wards that were like wisps, trace remnants from ages long before, the shuffling of ancient beings that once fought on Midgard and no longer existed. He could feel the magick of everything and anything around him, and forced himself to concentrate-

There! He felt the faintest trace of magick that belonged to the Chitauri sceptre. It was like a breadcrumb of sorts, the minute faint trace seemingly appearing from the middle of nowhere to where its 'droplet' so to speak grew into larger and larger beads. There were faint traces of the sceptre's unique signature magick in the air above it, but he suspected it was where it had been in transport before being seemingly handed to someone.

Loki knew he could have stretched his senses further, but he heard the faint warning hiss from Jormungandr who had shifted again and cracked open an eye. The snake had slithered half way up his shoulder and was peering beyond the folds of his collar behind him. The Stuttgart police were close then. He would have to continue his search at the place itself. He blew out a quiet breath and prepared himself. Walking the shadows of Yggdrasil to a place he had never been nor seen was almost as deadly as letting himself fall through the void of nothingness. He could easily walk right into a mountain or open a never-before seen path to eternal madness. It was, in a twisted sense, how he had found the Chitauri and Thanos. The roots of Yggdrasil were hidden in shadow for a reason, either banished by Asgard to the madness that was inherent in the voids and nothingness, or allowed for hidden forces to slowly gather their armies for ages. He suspected the latter for the Chitauri and for the Dark Elves that had been seeking the Aether.

He had never tried it before, but his teacher had explained it in theory to him when he had learned how to walk the shadows – to cross one's self. Taking the faint trace of magick that was from the sceptre that he first sensed in the Alps, he drew a thin line into the void, weaving the faint traces of the sceptre's unique and familiar skeins into the void itself-

_Nornsletthisworkletthisworkletmadnessnotbeitisnothingness_

_iHAvesTrINgsBuTNOwIseE_

It sung.

It sung, and Loki wanted to quail at the voice. He thought he felt something crawl underneath his skin, just right under the surface that he could not scratch. His mouth tasted dry. He heard Jormungandr's hisses become more frantic, the voices starting to grow louder- No, or was that the voices outside of the barrier with faint pops- Gunfire?

_iHAvesTrINgsBuTNOwIseE_

It continued to sing.

_IdonotwanttodieyetblacknessfearpainwhywasIbetrayed_

Loki's hand suddenly burned as he snapped out of his frantic frenetic haze with a start to look down to see them _shaking_. Jormungandr was attached to one of them, having wrapped himself tightly on a wrist and sunk his jaw into his hand. He blinked, oddly feeling disconnected for a second before he realized that the Stuttgart police had arrived in full force and had surrounded him, firing their weapons. The bullets had harmlessly pinged off of a shield he had instinctively conjured up. Loki glared at them, before looking once more at the portal and grimaced. There was no going back and plunged through it, the sensation of drowning engulfing him, his heart seizing in panic-

And tumbled out of the portal and into a dirt-packed snowy ground. He rolled twice before coming up into a crouch-

_iHAvesTrINgsBuTNOwIseE_

_ OhNornswhathaveIdonewhathaveIdoneIcant-_

He immediately spun on his knees, staring back at the thin line of magick he had come through and with shaking hands, quickly sealed the portal. A second later, merciful silence reigned in the area and faint infantile singing stopped. It was only then that he allowed himself a shuddering breath to emerge from his lips, squeezing his eyes shut at the sudden wave of dizziness that crashed upon him. He felt Jormungandr withdraw his bite, uncoiling himself from the tight grip he had on his wrist. He absently cast a basic healing spell on the wound, as the snake slithered to his shoulder, winding himself around his shoulder and rested his head.

He wanted to tell Jormungandr to never do it again, but somehow the words would not come out and instead took a moment to settle his nerves. He sucked in a cool breath of alpine air and opened his eyes once more, taking his surroundings. Evergreen trees sat with broken branches, bark scattered everywhere, snow drifts covering half of them. It was evident that a large-scale battle had taken place here and Loki thought he could see the familiar burnt scorch marks that heralded Mjolnir's power scattered everywhere. The trace of unique magick that was the sceptre was stronger here, he could feel it without casting his senses out. It was concentrated towards the remnants of a half-destroyed building, almost the size of a factory of sorts. Parts of it were caved in and while there was no smoke in the air, Loki thought he could still smell the burning fumes of chemicals and a permeating roasted scent in the air. Bodies, no doubt, considering that several howls of wolves, coyotes, and other animals echoed just then. There were no immediate threats from animals, but it did not mean that the Midgardian predators were hunting inside.

"Jor," he commanded and the snake lifted his head up, flicking his tongue out before uncoiling himself from his shoulder and dropped to the ground with a soft plop. From there, the snake immediately grew several sizes larger, until his mouth was about the size of Loki's head and his coils large and thick enough to crush any animal that dared attack them.

This large, Loki could see himself reflected in Jormungandr's icy blue eyes, but the snake hissed softly and followed as he started towards the partially destroyed building. The only sound save for the soft howl of the wind blowing bits of snow everywhere was the crunch of his boots against the freshly powdered ground. He could feel trace amounts of the sceptre everywhere. However, he also felt a signature he could not quite identify. It seemingly lay dormant underneath the sceptre's trace as he wandered past the broken branches and twisted bits of metal.

Jormungandr slithered forward towards where a set of double doors was half propped open and squeezed himself through before expanding his coils, the groan of metal scraping against one another before he made a significant hole for him to mostly walk through. Loki ducked under a rebar and entered the base proper. It was dark, with the fading light of dusk settling in and making the shadows of debris longer than normal. He held out his hand and summoned a mote of light. With his other hand, he reached into the spaces-in-between and pulled out a small containment modular and put the mote of light in before releasing it. The drain of magicks from the spell lessened as the modular did its work in spreading out the power as it hovered just above his head.

He followed the trace of magick to where it was strongest and stepped over several overturned chairs and tables along with vast amounts of broken glass and liquids. The room he ended up in after several hallways and two floors of descent upon a rickety ladder, looked similar to Banner's laboratory aboard the Helicarrier as he surveyed the scene. Jormungandr slithered over the glass, crunching it further into the ground as he surveyed the room with his own animal senses. This was where the Chitauri sceptre was stored as he approached the highest concentration of magick and looked past it to see half-broken windows looking down upon a clinical metal area. Half of it was exposed to the elements outside, broken wires and pieces of building material he did not recognize swaying in the wind-whipped air.

He vaulted over the pieces of broken glass and landed the four stories down to the bottom knee bent, a crater forming at his impact. Behind him, he heard Jormungandr slither towards the open glass and stepped to the side as the snake fell and landed a second later with a lot more force than he had, the crater growing. There was the faint trace of magick concentrated around the area as he raised the mote of light higher, casting wide, long shadows. He had landed past the clinical area and down into a hanger bay of sorts if the warped metal of quinjets was any indication. A large battle had been fought here, this much was certain – and it was not the destruction around the area that told him that. He could feel the traces of sceptre magick along with the same unusual one he had felt from the metal-armed man. The Captain's shield had its own unique trace that he had long ago sensed and dismissed, but it was more than likely due to the properties of the vibranium from which it was made.

The only thing absent was the smell of ozone, of Thor's hammer which always lingered in the air long after a battle had been fought. Mjolnir's magick was as powerful as from the heart of the star it was forged in. He had been jealous when Thor had been first presented with such a kingly gift, and at times had wondered if he would be worthy enough to pick the hammer up; but it had never responded to him. If Thor only knew how much power was in Mjolnir. The halfwit had only been using the barest fraction of power since he had received the weapon; though he did consider that time on Jotunheim when they had been running from the bligesnipe that Thor had used a little bit more extra power from Mjolnir than he would have thought possible.

Loki raised his hand and expanded his senses outward, feeling the sceptre's magick permeate through the area before he suddenly started, opening his eyes with a frown and stared upwards towards the cloudy skies. That was not possible- He scanned the area again and a sense of disquiet filled him as he knew what he sensed was not wrong. Every single magick spell cast by anyone left a trace. The highest concentrations tended to drown out the simpler spells, be it on the battlefield or otherwise. The throne room of Asgard was such a concentration point, but it was suffice to say that Asgard itself had so much magick permeating through it that one need not scan it like he had been doing.

Midgard was another story, the _absence_ of such magick more common than those with magick. But there were still traces around that for some odd reason, made it hard for him to find what he needed unless he had known what he was looking for. He had not sensed wrong – besides the Chitauri sceptre emitting a unique signature that he was familiar with, having wielded it before – there was the very rare trace of _portal_ magick. Someone had opened a portal into the shadows of Yggdrasil above where he was. It was also where a relatively high concentration of the sceptre's magick was.

He thought for a moment that it was how Sleipnir had arrived in the throne room, but as he gently corralled the faint trace, he could sense that it was not like the borrowed aspect that Eir had been talking about. No, this was directly from the caster. He blinked, his head spinning a little at the implications. Was it Baldr who did such a thing? But...Sleipnir had claimed that for Baldr's plan to work, Baldr needed him to walk them through the shadows of Yggdrasil. However, he did not have time to ponder as he heard Jormungandr's sharp hiss and looked around, lowering his hand.

Red glowing eyes were moving in the shadows of the mostly destroyed hanger bay. He was surrounded.

* * *

><p>"Tell me why are we going after Loki again?" Tony asked, but Steve caught the hidden wince in his expression out of the corner of his eye. He knew that Tony was still healing from the bruises, burns, and fractured bones he had received a week ago, but had insisted on suiting up.<p>

"We're not, you're back up," Steve stood near him, but kept his eyes focused on a nondescript point beyond the cockpit window where Natasha and Clint sat. The two were not even remotely ready to go on a mission, but had volunteered to sit in the quinjet as backup.

"Right, but why the hell should we even go after him?" Tony asked and he heard the unspoken, 'why should we even help him this time?' in the other man's tone. His grip tightened on the handhold he was holding onto as the quinjet banked a little, following the jetstream to hasten their travel time.

He had asked Clint to open the throttle on the quinjet, forgoing stealth for speed. After Loki had left, he had immediately known where he was going and had ran inside, Sam chasing after him, wondering what was going on. He had ignored Sam's questions and told JARVIS to prep a quinjet before informing Maria about what had just happened. Maria had replied that she was aware of the situation and the others in the tower had been informed, but had asked what he was doing with a quinjet. Steve had explained that they needed to get to Loki before anything else happened and she had only stared at him for a brief moment before coming to the same conclusions as he had.

When he had arrived at the small helipad where a quinjet was always kept, he had found the rest of the Avengers half suited up, Bucky included. The fact that Bucky was there surprised him, but the others, they were still sporting bandages, slings, and were definitely not mission ready. Surprisingly, Bruce was also there, looking a little uncomfortable in a sea of uniforms and suits, but he had just shrugged and said that this time, the big guy might be needed.

Before he could say a word of protest, Natasha had stepped forward and told him that Clint would pilot and she would be co-pilot and gunner for whatever op he was planning; meaning they knew their limits and would be support to his op. He had designated Tony to stay in the quinjet too, knowing that he was definitely not ready to fly around anywhere in the Iron Man suit. Sam, Bucky, and Bruce would be with him on the ground team.

"Because, if he somehow gets Thor to show up, we need to break Karpov's hold on him," he answered Tony's question, hearing the small creak of the handhold he was holding on splinter a bit under his grip. He eased up a little, trying not to show the worry he was feeling.

"Maria's saying he's already shown up and caused a ruckus in Stuttgart," Natasha reported, looking back at them. She looked relatively healthy, but her pale face belied her condition. Her shoulders had been reset since they had arrived back at the tower a week ago, but she still moved with some minor stiffness that showed recovering muscles and structure. Still, she looked a lot healthier than he would have expected and supposed it was probably due to some factor of her Red Room training.

Steve pinched his lips together and closed his eyes briefly before rubbing them as he felt Tony elbow him gently in the ribs. Loki appearing in public was one of the things he was afraid of happening.

"He's probably overloaded Twitter-"

"That's not the point, Tony," Steve shook his head and opened his eyes, "if someone's asking him about what he did in New York..."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tony frown and absently rub his chest, remembering what had happened the last time he had confronted Loki about New York. "Well...shit, he's still got that stupid geas with Fury right?" Tony muttered, looking away before giving a frustrated sigh. Steve could only nod and the other man swore quietly. He and Maria had figured it out first, but now that the other Avengers knew it was only a matter of time. Even though the geas that had been made with Director Fury the first time around had technically been completed, Steve did not know if its effects were still active. Loki never told them much about geas, only that if its specifically worded contract was not completed, then the person who made the geas would drop dead. If the person had died in some other manner before the geas was completed, then it would still be considered and incomplete geas and the spell or whatever it was, still in effect.

Loki had bargained for the lack of punishment from the world nations or whatever powers that be, for his actions in New York. Director Fury had ensured it with SHIELD's power and reach. But since SHIELD fell and Fury was in hiding, he did not know if the contract's effects would be null and void and did not want to take the risk. Natasha reporting that Twitter, or whatever social media function that people took their news these days was already reporting about Loki...would there be a mass of dead bodies from individuals or governments who wanted Loki to pay in some way for his actions in New York?

"That's fucked up," Clint growled from where he sat in the pilot's chair, his voice tinned over the comms.

"Maria's on it," Natasha reported again and Steve nodded grimly. Maria was good at damage control and she was one of the few who had inside knowledge about Fury's former operations and had been present when the geas contract had been made regarding New York City.

"The sooner Psycho is back home on Asgard, the better off this will be, right?" Tony smiled thinly at nothing in particular.

"Steve, you don't think that if Karpov shows up, he might try the same thing to whatever he did with Thor, do you?"

Steve turned, staring at tail end of the quinjet where Bruce sat, still worried about the Hulk and not comfortable enough with the Hulk to let himself risk sitting in further in. Bucky sat across from him, arms crossed, eyes closed and seemingly asleep, but Steve knew his new body language well enough from the last few harried weeks that he was paying sharp attention to Bruce's question. Sam two seats away from Bruce, hunched over, but was staring at him, waiting for an answer.

He pressed his lips together. Bruce's question was deceptively calm, but he also knew why the doctor had asked it. Of all of the Avengers, there was probably one, maybe two that knew Loki's mind more than how he presented himself. Even then, Steve suspected the inner knowledge was not as in-depth, Loki always hiding something. Natasha was probably one; Loki allowing her to keep an eye on him when he had been plagued by the waking nightmare of Thanos ready to mentally pounce and control him through the geas three years ago. Loki had all but said that Natasha was an adequate substitute for Thor's presence. But the first person he had designated as an adequate substitute was Bruce. Of all of the Avengers besides Thor, Bruce probably knew Loki the best. Steve did not know what kind of mutual understanding Bruce had with Loki, could not even begin to fathom it, but he knew that it was definitely not friendship. Allies would be stretching it, but as he stared at the good doctor, he could see that Bruce understood like no one else did; at least like no one else until they puzzled out most of who Loki was.

There were many adjectives Steve could come up with for the self-proclaimed Trickster God, all of them not friendly or even remotely polite, but on some level, he understood. And that understanding had not come until that deceptively blue stone on the Chitauri sceptre had hit him and he had lost himself. Because in that moment, between losing himself and having his mind forcibly suppressed, he had seen something utterly terrifying, something he knew he should have known.

"Well, considering he'd probably blow us up to kingdom come, he could do the same with Thor right now," Tony pointed out, glancing back and forth between him and Bruce, "come on...you guys seriously want to actually _help_ Loki? Again? I mean, it's bad enough we had to do it twice, but seriously, remember Odin? Asshole? Kind of didn't exactly care for us when he made that half-assed treaty, treatise thing? I mean, yeah, it's going to be bad if he gets control of both Loki and Thor, but I'd rather him control Loki than Thor."

"Or controlling no one," Steve said quietly, "I wouldn't wish that on any of my enemies, Tony, not now, not ever." He did not want to believe what he had glimpsed, perhaps part of Karpov's plans, maybe of his mind, but he thought he had seen Thanos.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

Singing portals into shadows of Yggdrasil are bad.


	9. Chapter 9

The Trickster: Ragnarok

by: Shadow Chaser

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own any characters from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. All characters belong to Marvel Entertainment, Marvel Comics, and Disney. I am not writing this story for profit, only for my own (twisted) amusement. I will try to return the characters unharmed, but some they might have a few scuff marks.

**Story:**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 9<em>

They slowly emerged into the light cast by the mote. Loki saw that they were seemingly mortal; dressed in the black military-style uniforms of one of Midgard's many self-proclaimed military forces. He shifted his feet a little, summoning his glaive to his hands from the spaces-in-between as he noted the distinct stylized patch of a skull with many arms from it - HYDRA. He sensed a foulness of sour magick from them, as if it was artificially placed, sickening them from within. There was something not quite right with the mortals that surrounded him. He received his answer as he saw some of their skin glow, as if molten lava of sorts surged just underneath it. The sour taste of magick seemingly hummed a mournful tune, if it could have actually done so, as if it was not a natural thing and caution whispered in the back of his mind.

Jormungandr's loud hiss echoed in the cavernous space, his body crunching over freshly fallen snow and debris as he slithered his way next to Loki. His head twisted this way and that as his skin darkened and became more cobra like, the flare of his hood and rattle of tail warning the unnatural soldiers not to come any closer. The soldiers were silent as they continued their advance and just before he saw the tense coil of glowing muscles, ready to strike, he struck first. He fired a blast of arctic air with the glaive, the cool rush of a thousand ancient blizzards freezing several soldiers in place.

At the same time, Jormungandr flicked his tail towards the frozen mass, shattering it into tiny pieces as bits of frozen blood sprayed into the air. Loki dodged the sudden rapid firing of automatic weapons, blocking several bullets with his shields as he twisted underneath the first punch thrown at him. He slashed his glaive downwards, cutting through muscle and sinew and thought the soldier dead when he saw the skin seemingly turn molten red-orange and seal up, nearly trapping the blade of his glaive in its wound. Loki only pulled the blade out in time as the wound healed and the soldier-like creature flung himself at him.

He burned.

It was like someone had taken his hands and body into the fires of Muspelheim as he reacted on instinct and broke through the crippling bear hug twisting out of the grip and quickly stabbed the creature in the chest several times with a conjured dagger. A swift kick to the creature's chest sent him flying backwards before Loki fired his glaive, freezing him just before he impacted the remnants of a quinjet and shattered into pieces. He summoned a jet of water from the remnants of dripping pipes and flung it at the incoming soldiers, all of them glowing now, their eyes inhumanly hungry. Jormungandr roared, a high pitched whine that half sounded like bricks dragged across steel plates. It was at odds to the serpentine creature he was, as he flattened, rolled, and twisted his body this way and that, flinging soldiers that ran at him like rag dolls.

Loki quickly fired swift bolts of icy power that followed his water trail, freezing and disabling the soldiers that had charged at him. He ducked and rolled under the blow of another, only to feel himself slam to the ground by a very strong kick and faltered for a second, unable to believe that such a puny _mortal_ could kick him like that. He paid for his moment of distraction as burning hands grabbed his shoulder and Loki growled, twisting out from the grip as he slammed the butt of the glaive into the offending pair of hands, sending the seemingly creature-like soldier into the air. He sent sharp black crystalline-like knives into the soldier, ripping him to shreds before pivoting on his foot and cleaved another in the head.

Loki watched the half-second it took for the wound to seal over as the soldier only gave him a bloodless grin, half of his eyes and skull broken, but only smiled in return as he flung the soldier around with his glaive, his arms pulling at the extra weight before he ripped the blade out again and the soldier crashed into two of its kind, sending them away. He only had a moment to catch his breath as a sudden wave of dizziness assaulted him before he righted himself and fired off several blasts from his glaive. He could feel the acute magick drain on him, and looked to see Jormungandr busy fighting the soldiers that had surrounded him, much more intelligent than the mindless beasts he had thought they were.

They were dodging around Jormungandr's coils and he knew that the serpent would not grow any larger, lest risking the collapse of whatever was left of the hanger. Jormungandr hissed and screamed, angry that his attacks were slowly being thwarted. Loki gritted his teeth and glared around the area, the glowing eyes, seemingly growing in number as he held his glaive in front of him in a defensive manner. He had woefully underestimated whomever had set this trap. These were not ordinary mortals, their unnaturally glowing skin attested to that as well as the sour taste of magick that he could feel in the air, but the fact that they hit almost as _hard_ as Captain Rogers. Rogers himself put up a good fight when they had clashed at Stuttgart three years previous, but these...creatures' touch burned things, much like the fire demons of Muspelheim.

He had faced far worst than a mindless mob of mortals clearly after him, but Loki also knew that he had the full advantage of his magick at his disposal. He could see at least five of them trying to surround him and made his decision. "Jor!" he shouted as he spun quickly. At the same time he fired the power of the Casket of Ancient Winters in a wide circle, freezing the five in place. Loki was not done yet as he pulled the lighted mote above his head towards him and grabbed the modular before slamming it into the ground at the same time with the butt of his glaive, sending the explosion of spellwork crisscrossing the remnants of the hanger bay.

The light around him darkened as Jormungandr hastily coiled his body around him, his head hovering just above as the spellwork rumbled across the broken ground. Tremors immediately wracked the area in a concentric wave. Loki saw the frozen creatures shatter and burst into congealed blood and pieces of flesh before the earthquake-like wave started to shake the rest of the area. Spikes of ice shot up from the ground as the earthquake traveled outward. Sparks of electricity and screeches of metal shook the area as Loki poured more magick into the remains of the lighted modular and sent the world-freezing power of the Casket of Ancient Winters into the utter destruction of the base. He could feel the drain acutely now, the dizziness that threatened to send him to the ground, but ignored it as he felt the base implode around him and Jormungandr. The snake's coils tightened around him, dimming the amount of light he had, but he ignored the snake's concern. When he was sure the base was destroyed, slowly released his hand from the modular, the remnants of the mote of light burned into a destructive rune on the ground.

He opened eyes he did not realize he had closed when he had cast the spell as he heard and saw Jormungandr's large coils slowly loosen around him. He realized he had all but knelt on the ground and slowly stood up. His breath came in harsh gasps, the cool air of the Alpine mountains blowing small crystals of water as the dim moonlight shone through what remained of the partially destroyed hanger bay. As Jormungandr's coils finally loosened enough for him to see, he saw that the base was utterly flattened, the treeline and snowy hills visible from where he stood.

There was no sign of the glowing red-eyed creatures that had attacked him.

Loki let loose a quiet shuddering sigh before he staggered and slammed the end of his glaive into the ground, trying to steady himself as his world spun. He felt like he was about to throw up as he dry heaved, nearly falling to the ground. His hands gripped the intricate grooves of his weapon as he took heaving breaths, the creep of exhaustion hitting him full force.

"L-Loki-"

He had not noticed when Jormungandr had shifted to his human form as he felt the pair of spindly hands grip his shoulders tight and hissed slightly when they came in contact with the burns he had received from the soldier-creature that had managed to grab him earlier. He could feel the half-melted metal plates of a casual armor that had protected him ride against his skin, cutting the wounds and burns deeper.

"Loki-"

Whatever concern Jormungandr was about to say was lost as howls filled the air. Loki managed to look up to see the nearest pile of rubble shift as a red-orange glowing hand managed to free itself. He turned to see the metal and concrete piles of rubble around him shift, more glowing hands and arms making themselves known as the inhuman creatures seemingly came back to life. "Jor-"

"You are exhausted-"

"I know my own limitations," he roughly pushed Jormungandr's hands off of his shoulders and pulled himself up, leaning heavily on the glaive. Jormungandr could not heal him, not without his core, yet he persisted by attempting to put his hands on the burn wounds on his shoulders. The former Healer was an idiot for not remembering that _he could not do anything_. Pushing that thought to the side, he glanced up and around him, looking at the trees before he formed a plan in his mind.

"The trees to our left-"

"But Loki-"

"You will trigger an avalanche-"

"I am not leaving you to be attacked by these creatures-"

Loki had enough as he spun and glared at the icy-blue eyed young man who was staring back at him with a defiant expression his face. "You will do as I say and as I ordered, Jormungandr. You _will_ obey my commands."

He saw the defiance wilt away as Jormungandr nodded, lips compressed together. In the blink of an eye, Loki saw the icy-blue eyes turn reptilian as he reverted back to being a snake. Jormungandr only gave him a long look before slithering away, his smaller form tunneling through the snowbanks as the glowing red-eyed creatures finished unearthing the rubble around themselves. Most of their uniforms were tattered remains, but the exposed skin they showed had veins that glowed and seemingly sent pulsating waves of red-hot heat towards other parts of their bodies. Some had limbs that were slowly regenerating while others had cuts that were healing.

There were certainly a lot less than before, but as Loki slowly straightened, pushing away the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him, he knew that they would still be more than a match for him, especially in his weakened state. His collapsing of the base itself at least did more damage than what he could have done wasting his spells. He dared not pull at any spells as he gripped his glaive defensively, taking one step back, his senses alert for an incoming attack.

He only got a whisper of a warning as he suddenly ducked and rolled forward, the air above his head filled with the blurred sight of a familiar red-white-blue shield as it slammed into the first soldier that had leap at him. He swept the blade upward, catching another as it sliced the person from navel to throat, spraying blood into the air. At the same time, he heard the rattle of many bullets being fired as well as the familiar whine of the man of iron's repulsor blasts. The air filled with a humming noise and gusts of wind blew the snow this way and that as the Avengers joined in the fray. Loki spun and saw the flash of silvery metal followed by several sprays of blood into the air as the metal-armed man cut his way through several of the soldiers, moving with lethal and brutal efficiency that Loki had thought only belonged to Agent Romanov. There was also the speed of his movement, something he thought only belonged to Captain Rogers as the red-white-blue clad man grabbed his shield as it rebounded and threw it again, running to punch and break the neck of another soldier.

A quick look above showed the matte-black quinjet, almost blending in with the night sky, hovering above them, the bobble of red hair telling him that Romanov was in the gunner's seat while the familiar grim face of Agent Barton was the pilot. He half expected to see the red-gold armor of Stark's flying about like an annoying gnat, but instead, the sudden swooping of another creature nearly made him fire off a spell except for the fact that the sudden spray of bullets downed one of the creatures that had been running towards him.

"Whoa, hey, friendly here!" the winged-man said before he flew off, strafing two of the glowing red-creatures. They were forced to duck and paid for their inattention as they suddenly became two bloodied stumps on the ground, the very familiar green-form of the Hulk unceremoniously smashing them into the snowy dirt and concrete remnants of the base. Loki took an involuntary step back as the ground shook from the force of the green monster's blows. He had not been this close to the Hulk since...well, since that time at Stark's tower.

"Loki, behind you!" Rogers' shout carried across the battlefield and he turned in time to ram the blade of his glaive into the gut of a soldier, before he twisted and climbed the leg and chest of the other soldier, back-flipping as he used his momentum to fling the soldier that he had gutted high into the air where it was blasted to pieces by two of Stark's repulsors. He turned in time to see the soldier he had used as a climbing apparatus fall to the ground, knife embedded in the man's jugular. Beyond him, the metal-armed man only spared him a quick look before glancing beyond his shoulder. Loki turned as he heard the distant rumble growing louder and was pleased to see that Jormungandr had started the avalanche as asked, a wall of white coming towards them.

"Holy shit! Avalanche!" the man with improbable wings shouted above him and Loki saw that he was about to dive down. He realized that the man with the wings was going to try to pick either Rogers or the metal-armed man up and waved a hand at him, sending a gust of conjured wind and making him fly higher before he conjured shields around the others on the ground just as the wall of white slammed into them.

Loki dug the end of his glaive into the ground as the snow roared over them. He choked as he felt like something snap in the back of his mind, the dizziness nearly making him lose his grip on the glaive itself before he ruthlessly pushed it aside and focused on the shields and keeping himself steady against the flow of the avalanche. After a few minutes, he could feel the flow stop, the pressure on his shields lessening, but he did not release the others from their shielding as he lowered his own. The blast of cool colder air hit his face, as silence reigned around him, the snow banks nearly his full height.

He heard the distant muffled roar of the Hulk and something in his mind rattled against the green monster smashing against the shielding that held him in place, but Loki ignored it as he brandished his glaive and extended his arm out. The curved point of the blade nearly touched the edges of the snow bank that had built up against what had been his shield. He could feel the incredible power of a thousand ancient blizzards at the crown of the glaive, just waiting to be unleashed. The glaive was like an extension of his arm, as he felt it melding with him, waiting for him to use it. However artificial, it was something he could not draw from, but rather channel, but the relationship was seemingly symbiotic. He hated ice magick, abhorred it. Hated what the glaive represented, what all of the snow and ice represented, but did not deny its usefulness. It waited...

And he waited...

And as the precious seconds ticked off, he watched the snow that surrounded him, waiting. A heartbeat later, he felt the corners of his lips curl up in an anticipatory smile. He could see the first glow of red a few feet away as the glowing-red creatures burned their way through the snow. It would be a fatal flaw of theirs as he gently touched the edges of the embedded stone to the snow and felt the slightest sliver of power from the Casket of Ancient Winters' glaive travel hungrily through the snow, seeking the target he guided it towards. He could tell the moment the melting of snow refroze into an immovable icicle, the subversive power of the dark blue gem crawling into the veins, hardening them, freezing the blood-

And just like that, Loki allowed the power of the glaive to _suck_ in all of the snow that had poured upon them in an avalanche, the howl of power swirling around the point- Just as suddenly, all that was left was the hardy pine trees, shielded Avengers who were on the ground, and the frozen forms of the remaining soldiers that had attacked him. They looked like indelicate ice sculptures, their forms twisted by the blood he had frozen. It was how he had been able to freeze their blood, using the snow-melt that lingered on their bodies and wounds, generated from their melting, to kill them.

He released the shielding on the others, all of them staring at the carnage about them. He could feel the bone-deep exhaustion clinging to him like a second skin and leaned a little on his glaive. He just needed a chance to catch his breath before facing the Avengers- Just to close his eyes for only a moment as he heard Jormungandr's form slither from the tree line across the snow behind him- Just needed to-

His last brief thought before the black oblivion of exhaustion was that Thor would probably berate him for his idiocy at over extending himself with his magick. Maybe Thor had a good point...

* * *

><p>There was something admirably disturbing with how Loki had killed the last of the Extremis and Centipede soldiers that had apparently been waiting in ambush in the remnants of Karpov's base. Natasha pursed her lips a little as she studied the twisted...sculptures...for the lack of a better word, the quinjet dipping a little as Clint landed it, the skirmish apparently over. A sinewy movement to her right made her glance beyond Loki to see something <em>slithering<em> towards him and she opened her mouth to warn the others when just as suddenly the Asgardian collapsed to the ground.

"What the-" Natasha tapped her radio off from whatever Stark was about to say as she hurried out of the cockpit and down the ramp, mindful of the pull of still healing muscles and wounds. She skidded to a stop in time to see that a very large cobra-like snake, of all things had curled around Loki, its head the size of at least Steve's shield.

"Nat, stay where you are-"

Natasha felt the slight thrill of fear as the snake whipped its head around to look at her, its hood flaring with anger, the rattle of his tail a clear sign to not come any closer as Steve and James stood a few feet away from it. James looked tense, and Natasha knew that he was trying to find some sort of weakness in a snake that large while Steve looked rather concerned.

"Hulk, stay," Steve suddenly turned as the Hulk lumbered up, a growl issuing from his lips as he shook the ground. The large snake whipped its head back around and hissed angrily, flaring even larger at the Hulk's approach.

"Snake not smell right," Hulk growled out as Natasha heard the clomp of Stark's boots and the faint draw of Clint's bow as he primed an arrow. Above them, she could imagine Sam prepping his machine guns, ready to rain fire down on the creature.

"No, wait, Hulk, stop, don't provoke him," Steve held his hand back to the Hulk who took one lumbering step forward before huffing and standing down, obeying Steve's orders.

"Him?" Clint asked behind Natasha and she risked a quick look back to see him not quite pointing the arrow at the snake, but more towards Loki's prone form. The eerily similar sceptre-like glaive he had been holding was next to him, its dark blue stone seemingly clouded with hidden power.

"Jormungandr?" Steve took a tentative step forward as the snake hissed, fangs bared and dripping with something that smelled like a very familiar poison.

"Steve-" Natasha recognized the scent, having breathed it in first two years ago when she, Steve, and ex-Agent Grant Ward had been trying to find the leader of the rogue HYDRA cell in Washington D.C.

"Cap-" Tony started.

"Jormungandr, right?" Steve ignored all of them as he took another cautious step forward and Natasha saw James' brow wrinkle in concern as he made an abortive move to stop Steve from moving forward.

"James, don't-" Natasha realized that James did not know the situation and was reacting as if the serpent was a threat – which in this case it probably was – but also realized that the serpent, if it truly was Jormungandr, he had not made a move against Steve yet.

"Bucky, stand down. I'm all right," luckily, Steve turned his head a little and waved James down, who stopped his movement, but had a frown on his face.

"...Steve..." in the week since they had returned from this very base, James had not even addressed Steve by his name; nor did he address Steve as "the target," even though he proved he was capable of holding regular conversations.

"It's okay, Buck," for a moment Natasha thought that Steve was going to expose his back to the snake, allowing him to strike with impunity, and it seemed that James thought the same, but instead, Steve surprised them by waving James off while keeping an eye on the snake. "It's okay Jormungandr. We're not going to hurt Loki. The fight's over, we just want to make sure he's okay-"

"He is _fine_," Natasha could swear that she blinked once and the snake had disappeared, leaving the familiar gangly human form of Jormungandr looking not even a day older than when he had been in chains in the Allfather's throne room, receiving his punishment. His dark hair was just as unruly and his chipped icy blue eyes still defiant, his thin face and angular cheekbones morphed into a snarl as he glared at Steve. "We do not _need_ your help! He just needs rest-"

"Jormungandr, we're just offering a place for the two of you to recuperate-"

"Wait, we are?!" Tony squawked behind Natasha and she glared at him to shut up as Steve blithly ignored Tony's protest.

"You're injured, and you need at least some treatment-"

Jormungandr wiped his light brown jacket across his face, streaking it with blood that Natasha realized was probably from a well-hidden head wound. She also noticed that parts of his clothing were ripped, blood dripping from cuts and gashes he had received. Those same cuts had not been visible when he had been a snake, but she realized that he must have somehow hidden them with his large serpentine bulk.

"If you and Loki need to find Thor, we can at least help-"

"Your resources are of no use-"

"At least the two of you can recover in a _non-hostile_ setting," Steve took another step forward, putting him at least within arm's reach of Jormungandr. Natasha was a little worried; this close, if Jormungandr turned back into the large serpent that had been hissing at them, he could easily strike Steve and potentially poison him again. Steve had only breathed in the poison like she had – if he had been bitten... "We're also trying to find Thor. Director Coulson's offering the resources of SHIELD."

Natasha knew that Coulson was patched into their comm lines, having done so as soon as Steve had ordered Maria to prep a quinjet. He must have asked Steve to put forth the proposal, even though SHIELD was technically operating on very low manpower and resources. But she also knew that both Jormungandr and Loki did not know of the circumstances of what had happened in the past two years – Thor's conversation with her, Steve, James, and Agent May over a week ago indicating that never told anyone on Asgard what had happened to SHIELD.

"This is not a surrender," Jormungandr seemed to deflate as he took a small step back, looking smaller than Natasha thought possible. Something in his expression reminded her of a lost child, clinging onto the remnants of what was familiar.

"It never was, Jormungandr," Steve nodded once, before reaching over and picking up the glaive and handing it to the young man. She watched as he took it and clutched it close to his chest, as if he could seemingly absorb it into himself. He looked so child-like and so lost that Natasha thought she saw herself in him...and that disturbed her.

* * *

><p>He floated high above the field of battle, now awash in a heap of snow and logs of trees that had not survived the avalanche. The familiar hum of Mjolnir kept him aloft as he watched the tiny forms of the humans called Avengers scurry about, carrying the one who wielded magick into the flying contraption he knew as the quinjet. The others took a moment to sweep the area for any further hostiles before boarding the quinjet. Moments later, the flying contraption rose into the air and sped off, back to its home base.<p>

He knew he could easily strike them down with a bolt of lightning from Mjolnir, and part of him _wanted_ to. It would be so easy to see the contraption fall from the sky, killing almost everyone aboard. The green monster would survive, and perhaps the snake-man. But everyone else would be dead, including the magick user. He was a powerful one, but had clearly exhausted his own power. Something in him wanted to rail against such use of power, that the magick user was an idiot for over-extending himself in such a fashion. That he should not have pushed himself so hard, to let the others finish the fight for him. The green monster could have easily mashed the Extremis soldiers into pulpy messes and used the Centipede ones for target practice. The magick user did not have to prove himself to the humans, to him...to make him see in the skies and stars above.

Then the magick user collapsed and he felt like he wanted to rush to his side, to shake his head and berate him for doing such a foolish thing. That they were once...brothers? Was it brothers? Were they brothers? That he was the stubbornest idiot in all of the Nine Realms and as much of a powerful display it was, it was also foolish for him to do such a thing. He had open portals, a feat in of itself most dangerous and took the most amount of magick. He knew that for a fact because he had walked through several...had he? It was a feat to walk through the shadows of Yggdrasil once, but the magick user had done it at least twice in succession. He had seen him in the glittering city he knew as Stuttgart, had seen him pull at something in the skeins and webs he knew the magick user always talked about while he pretended not to understand. He had seen him walk again, pulling the snake-man with him.

The trap had been simple, his master, his glorious master to whom he would serve until the ends of the Earth and beyond. His master whom was generous to give him this, to let him watch- His master _wanted_ him to watch, had said something about suffering and doing nothing, but he did not understand his master's words, could not comprehend them because there was nothing but the master's commands. He had watched and he had been instructed not to act. He had been instructed not to act for all of the times the magick user had been hit, attacked, had his blood split. He had watched and had not understood why.

The magick user had fought back, and perhaps there had been a lesson in such an observation, that he would soon be able to fight this magick user, to see him fight even though somewhere deep within – he had fought the magick user before. Right? He had fought him countless times? That he knew when he was at his limits and perhaps when he pushed past them? But surely his master did not want him to watch such a meaningless slaughter? His master had set the trap and he thought that it was perhaps he needed to ensure that it was sprung, that the magick user would know the folly of walking into such danger – he was the stubbornest idiot in all of the Nine Realms.

He puzzled over that extraneous thought. It had been...affectionate? Brotherly?

And somehow, he wanted to rail at it. He wanted to bang his fist against an invisible barrier of glass that he knew was seemingly unbreakable. That he wanted to stop each bullet from piercing the magick user's body, to stop the hiss of burns...that it was...

Wrong.

But was it?

_Come_...the whisper touched his mind and he obeyed, spinning Mjolnir harder as he drew his red cloak around him, his blue-silver armor clinking as the plates adjusted themselves to his movement.

Thor flew off, summoned by his one-and-only master's commands. And somewhere very deep inside, he raged and wailed against what he had been force to see.


End file.
